You Never Know When Chapter 2, a csi fanfic

Thank you to everyone who reviewed! I know it was a kind of boring start, but I hope this makes up for it. I only have 2 more weeks of school left, so I should have a lot more time to write! This chapter is where things get strange, I think you'll be surprised, but I hope you like it. Also, I edited the summary a little, if you haven't noticed already. This chapter is rated T for a fluffy scene. You have been warned!

Disclaimer: I own nothing, all mistakes are mine. Some lines are barrowed from/inspired by scenes from the episode 'Crash and Burn'.

Chapter 1:

Sara sat there for a few minutes, ordering another beer. She couldn't stop thinking of what might have happened if she hadn't found out about Elaine. As she took another sip of her drink, a familiar face caught her attention.

"Grissom?"

Grissom turned at the sound of her voice, and quickly walked over to her table. "What are you doing here?" She asked.

"I, um…I heard about Hank." He admitted, giving her an understanding look.

"Oh," she looked down at her hands, avoiding eye contact.

"I just, wanted to, uh-" he paused when she looked back up at him. "I wanted to let you know that-" he met her eyes, and it was as if his voice was stuck in his throat. She looked like a little girl who'd just lost her puppy. He wanted nothing more than to hold her in his arms, let her know it would be okay, that he was their for her, that he loved her. Whoa, he thought, not that last one. It wasn't that he didn't love her, he loved her more than anything. The thing was, he'd practically ignored her since the day her found out that she'd been with Hank. The thought of Sara with another man killed him inside. He didn't think she'd believe him.

But there was something else he wanted to say.

"Uh, Grissom?" Sara's voice brought him back to reality.

"I just wanted you to know that, you don't have to come in next shift. That's my day off, so…if you'd like, you could, um…" He rubbed his forehead, this was so much harder than he thought it would be. "What I'm trying to say is, you can come over and talk if you want."

Sara was taken aback. Did she hear him correctly? Did he just ask her to come to his house?

"I'd like that," she smiled. Grissom smiled back, and got up to leave.

"Wait!" Sara called, Grissom turned and faced her. "Why don't you stay? Shift's over." She pursed her lips, pointing to the extra seat by tilting her head. Smiling, Grissom walked over and sat down. "I'd like that," he smiled. God, she loved that smile.

"So," Sara said after Grissom ordered a beer, "how'd you know I was here?"

"Catherine told me. She called and said that I should let you stay in tomorrow, I asked where you were. I wanted to make sure you were ok."

"Who'd you hear it from?"

He was quiet for a moment, and Sara instantly knew. "Greg?" She asked. He nodded, "I didn't tell you because didn't want to have to hire a new lab tech."

Sara laughed, she was already feeling a lot better. Maybe leaving Hank wasn't such a bad thing after all.

Time flew by, and so did the drinks. Before either of them knew it, it was dark outside, and both knew that they were too intoxicated to drive. Grissom called a cab and, without really thinking it through, told Sara to just stay at his place.

"Why?" She asked as the cabby pulled off.

"Your house is on the other side of town. It'd be cheaper this way. Besides, you were gonna come over tomorrow. I have a spare bedroom." He said, shrugging as though it was nothing. She shrugged too, not seeing any danger in it. She also hadn't remembered how many drinks either of them had had. At the time, she didn't think that it mattered.

The cab pulled into Grissom's driveway, he paid the driver, and he and Sara got out and headed up the stairs. He watched her struggle up the first few steps and, without thinking, took her hand in his. The sudden contact sent a spark through them.

They walked inside, their hands still intertwined, and locked eyes. That same spark went though them again. This time it was to hard to control. "Did you feel that?" Sara whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear. He answered her by giving her a gentle kiss on her lips. They remained that way until they needed to breathe. The feeling that they encountered was so strong, and so wonderful, neither knew what was happening, nor did they realize just how intoxicated they both were.

Grissom held her face in his hands, and once again she met his eyes. In that moment, all was lost.

He pulled her in for another kiss, this one more urgent than the last. She wrapped her arms around his neck, running her hands through his curls. He knew this was wrong. Something in the back of his mind kept telling him no, but the rest of him was screaming yes. Next thing they knew, they were in his bedroom, and his hands were sliding up the back of her shirt, unclipping her bra.

Sara woke the next morning with her head pounding. At first, it made no sense. Then it all came back to her. The case, Elaine, leaving Hank, the bar, Grissom-

Grissom!

The last thing she remembered was Grissom's hands sliding up her back. But she also remembered the feeling they'd both shared when they held hands, and when they kissed. Did he? What if that had been caused by the alcohol? What if she'd just imagined that spark? Nervously, she slowly opened her eyes. The room was still a little dark, it was no later than seven. She went to prop herself up, but realized she couldn't. Opening her eyes a little wider, she noticed that she wasn't alone. Nor was she the only one awake.

Grissom's blue eyes started down at her, and it was then that she realized that one of her arms was wrapped around his bare chest, and that one of his was around her as well. She also became aware of the fact that they were both completely undressed. Her cheeks flushed red, and even though she couldn't remember, she knew what had happened during the night.

She was the first to break the silence. "Grissom…I'm so sorry." She looked down, her eyes closed, doing her best to hold in her tears.

Earlier that morning

Grissom awoke with his left arm numb and his head pounding. Using his right hand, he rubbed his forehead, trying to stop the pain. He looked down at his left arm, and was taken aback. Sara Sidle was resting her head on his shoulder, and her arm was wrapped around him. Then it all came back, he remembered grabbing her on the stairs, kissing her, the spark, and everything that followed.

It had been everything he'd ever wanted since the day he'd met her. There was always something about her that drove him crazy. There was no way he was going to let her go now, not after everything that had happened.

He watched her sleep. He would brush hair away from her face when it fell. He did this for about thirty minutes, until she woke up. He watched as her confusion melted, and she became aware of everything around her. He was shocked with what she said next:

"Grissom…I'm so sorry."

Sorry? "Sara," he held her face with his hand, and she met his eyes again. God he loved those eyes. "Don't apologize. Last night-"

"I know, was a mistake." She said, he saw a single tear slid down her face. "I had to much to drink, I should have just gone to my own house. God, Grissom, I'm so sorry." She choked out a sob.

"No! No, Sara, listen to me, please." He gently pulled her face up, forcing her to look at him. "Last night made me realize so many things. When we kissed, I realized just how special our bond is. That we share a strong connection. I've never felt this with anyone before, Sara." He said, not breaking eye contact with her.

Sara was at a loss of words. That was not what she had expected. She expected him to freak, to pretend that nothing had happened. That he hadn't remembered the feeling that went though them. This was the complete opposite. All she could do was stare at him.

"Sara, please, say something."

"That's the best thing anyone has ever said to me," she said, her lower lip quivering. He smiled at her. Nothing could sum up how happy she was. She leaned forward, wrapped her arm around his neck, and kissed him. At first, his eyes became wide with shock, but after a moment, they closed, and he kissed her back. That same, wonderful feeling went through them again. So that wasn't because of the alcohol, Sara thought. When they finally broke apart for air, they met each others eyes.

"What do we do now?" Sara asked, tracing her hand down the side of his face.

"I'm not letting you go, Sara. Not now. Not after this."

She smiled, her bottom lip quivering again. "Thank you," she managed, resting her head on his chest.

"But, what about work? What about the others?" She asked again, not looking up at him.

"I…I guess we'll just, have to keep it a secret."

"Can we pull it off?"

"I think we can. Either way, we're professionals, Sara, I think we can be in a relationship and work together."

In a relationship, those words sent chills through her. "After all," he said, smiling, "we managed it in San Francisco."

"We had coffee a few times, Gris, not…well, this."

He was silent.

"Oh, sorry, Grissom. That came out wrong."

"Sara, it's ok. This is going to take some getting used to, but, I think we'll make it."

With that, they lied there, holing each other. It had all happened so fast, and in such a strange way. But all that mattered now was that they were finally happy, finally together. Things were beginning to look brighter for Sara.

It was now a little past noon, and Sara had already showered (alone), gone home, changed cloths, and returned to Grissom's. They planned on spending the rest of the day together, relaxing, when Grissom's phone rang.

"It's Catherine." Grissom said sadly.

"Answer it."

"But-"

"Grissom, it's ok, I'll be fine." She smiled.

"Grissom," he answered, watching Sara walk into another room.

"Hey, Gris, it's Catherine. I was just calling to ask if you know if Sara stayed home. She didn't come in today."

"Oh," Grissom said, rather surprised. "Yeah, I talked to her yesterday, she said she wanted a day to herself, to kind of…deal with everything."

"Poor girl," Catherine sighed through the phone, "well, thanks Grissom. Do you know if she's coming in next shift?"

"She said she would."

"Good. Well, bye, Gil."

"Oh, Cath, wait a sec."

"What?"

"Do the guys know about what happened?"

"Yeah." Catherine said, a little confused.

"Tell them to be…light, on the subject. Its still a little hard for her." Grissom said, finding it hard to contain his laughter.

"Oh, gosh. I feel bad for her. I've gotta go, Gil, bye."

"Bye," he hung up, and chuckled to himself.

"What's so funny?" Sara asked, entering the room again.

He looked up at her, and stopped chuckling long enough to talk. "Let's just say that, when you head in for work, pretend to be upset."

Not getting it, she gave him a confused look.

"I told Cath that you were, uh, having trouble with the break up."

"Ooh," she smiled, giggling to herself at his humor. "So, they didn't want you to come in?" She asked.

"No, Cath just wanted too know if you stayed home." He used his fingers as quotations as he said the word 'home'. Sara walked over and lied down on the couch with him, her back leaning on him. After a few hours of watching TV, they dozed off. It was six o'clock when they woke up.

"I need to get home." Sara said, stretching her arms out.

"Why? Shift doesn't start for three more hours."

"I know, but I need to get ready. I don't want my boss to get mad." She teased.

He smiled, "fine, see you later."

Sara nervously walked to her locker. She knew what Grissom had said was right, but it was going to be a little different. She was also nervous because of the looks she was getting as she walked down the halls. Apparently, they all knew about Hank.

Sara turned into the locker room, where she found Nick. She stopped immediately, she stopped, he looked dead at her.

"Hey," he said kindly, she offered him a sad smile. She walked over to her locker, and began getting her things.

"Are you alright, Sar?" He asked.

Act sad. "Yeah," she said sadly, "Cath says it's good that I found out."

"It is, this could've ended a lot worse."

"I know. I'll um, see you later, okay?"

"Okay," he smiled sadly, his heart went out to Sara. She was like a little sister to him.

Sara entered the break room, where Catherine and Warrick sat. She smiled a sad smile and sat down next to them. "Want some coffee, Sara?" Warrick asked.

"No thanks," she sighed, shaking her head.

"How about some tea?" Catherine asked.

"I'm fine, you guys. Really."

Before they could protest, Grissom and Nick walked in, and Grissom immediately started handing out assignments.

"Cath, Warrick, DB at the Rampart. Old man found dead in one of the bathrooms." He handed her the slip, and they exited the room.

"Nick, Sara, you're with me. There was a break in in a rich neighborhood. The owner of the house was shot, she's at the hospital with critical wounds. Suspect ran off with about two thousand dollars worth of stolen items."

"Who's the home owner?" Nick asked.

"Shelby Norton, forty five. Shot in the leg. She's lost a lot of blood."

"Is she expected to live?" Sara asked.

"I don't know. But someone needs to go to the hospital and get her cloths."

There was an awkward silence. The three of them both knew what; more like who, might be at the hospital: Hank.

"I'll go," Nick said at last, giving Sara an understanding look and a pat on the shoulder. Even though she wasn't as upset about Hank, it would still be hard to see him and focus on the case. How would she be if she didn't have Grissom? Just the thought of it made her heart sink.

"Hey, are you okay?" Grissom asked, seeing that she was obviously thinking about something that upset her.

"I'm fine, it's just-" she paused, looking around to see if anyone was watching. Once she was certain that no one was, she continued, "let's just say, that, this would be a lot harder if I didn't have you."

The case looked like it would be a slam dunk; as Warrick would often say. They found multiple fingerprints that didn't match the home owners'. In addition to that, it looked like the victim was going to live. The doctor had called the day after the break in, and gave them the bullet. Even better for them, it matched another bullet that was used in another robbery, but the case was unsolved. Same fingerprints, too. They needed to talk to the victim, to possibly get a description, and Sara was on her way to do just that.

"Are you sure you want to go there, Sara?" Nick asked nervously, knowing that Hank could be their.

"Nick, I can't just hide from him. Besides, it's been nearly a week, I'll be fine." She assured him, walking out of the break room.

"Brass will meet you there," Grissom called after her. Nick just shrugged, there was no stopping her. Even so, Sara still wondered what might happen if he was there. Nothing, she thought, getting into her car, just focus on the case, and everything will be fine.

Thankfully, their was no sign of him once she arrived. Even so, she kept her eyes peeled until she reached the victims room.

"Hey, Sara, there you are." Called Brass, who was running to catch up with her.

"Hey Brass, you ready?" He nodded. "Okay," she sighed, getting a statement was sometimes hard for the victims, she hoped it wouldn't be so for this one.

"Ms. Norton?" She asked, knocking on the door.

"Come in, and please, call me Shelby. 'Mr. Norton' makes me feel old." She smiled.

"Ok then, Shelby. I'm Sara Sidle, I'm from the Crime Lab, and this is Jim Brass from LVPD, we'd like to get a statement about what happened a few nights ago. Do you think you can do that for us?"

"Oh, yes. Anything to catch the bastard."

"Ok, what do you remember first?" Brass asked, flipping open his note pad.

"Well, I was watching TV in my bedroom, when I heard a loud crash coming from the dining room," she began, "I went to see what was going on, and a man was going through some of my jewelry. I screamed at him to stop, but he didn't."

"Did you get a look at his face?" Sara asked. Shelby nodded. "Do you think you could describe him?"

"Oh, definitely." Shelby said, nodding vigorously.

"We'll take care of that once we finish the statement. So, what happened next?" Brass asked.

"He looked up at me, and just stood there, like a deer in the middle of a road. I ran for a phone, but he shot me, grabbed my jewelry and took off. Next thing I remember is the paramedics scraping me off the floor."

"That was good, Ms-" he cleared his through, an effort to cover up his mistake, "Shelby. That was very good. Now if you could just wait while I call in a sketch artist, and we'll get that description." Brass smiled, walking out of the room as he pulled out his cell phone.

Once the artist arrived, Shelby gave a rather strong description of the man who shot her. After they thanked her, they headed back to PD to put the picture on the air.

"The doctor says I'm going to be released in about five days, why don't you two come by? I make great blueberry muffins!"

"Thank you, Shelby, but, we're pretty busy." Brass said.

"Dang, well, I hope I'm helping you catch the bastard. Will you let me know when you catch him?"

"Yes, we will."

"So, how'd it go at the hospital?" Grissom asked as Sara walked in the break room.

"Pretty good, actually," Sara said, pleased with the results she had, "we got a description of the guy, we should have the guy in custody very soon."

If only fate would have it that way.

One week later

"I don't believe this." Nick said, fuming as he put his cell phone in his pocket.

"What?" Sara asked, confused.

"That was Grissom. Guess who's body was discovered in a trash can?"

Sara's hear sank. "Shelby Norton's." She said, more of a statement than a question.

Nick nodded, "lets go, Grissom said there's a lot of press out there."

Sara rose from her chair, shoulders drooping as she walked to get her kit.

"Are you okay?" Nick asked as they walked out the door.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She lied.

He just gave her a look. Sara's entire apartment could explode, and she'd still say that she was 'fine'. He knew this was going to be a little hard for her, considering she'd gotten to know the victim a little.

The night seemed to go by in a flash. They collected and processed the evidence; from the trash can and body, got statements from witnesses, and were left with the man's description being the only way to identify the poor woman's killer.

Four more days past, and nothing came up. It was beginning to look like they'd never get the guy, when:

"Hey, Sara!" Nick called, running down the lab's hallways to catch up with her.

"Whoa, Nick, where's the fire?"

"In the interrogation room at PD. Brass just called, they've got him. He confessed to everything"

Sara's eyes could have popped out of her head. "Really? Just like that?" She gasped.

"Once Brass laid out the evidence, the guy broke down." He put a hand on her shoulder, "we've got em' Sara."

"Hey, Sara, why don't you come over to my place tonight?" Grissom whispered as Sara sat in the chair in front of his desk, "we haven't spent much time together since this case started."

"I'd like that," Sara smiled.

"It's cases that end like this that keep me doing this," Sara said, slurping a fork full of spaghetti that Grissom had made into her mouth, "I just wish we could have gotten him sooner."

"It happens sometimes, Sara, people do stupid things."

"Well, that's one idiot off the streets." She sighed. She looked down at her plate, and twirled her fork in her spaghetti.

"Sara?" Grissom asked, "are you sure you're okay?"

"No," she admitted, "I mean, for some reason, I feel like it's…kind of my fault. I know it's not, but, if we'd found him the first time, then Shelby Norton would still be alive."

"Sara, you can't keep thinking that. He didn't have a record, and no one at the scene saw him, other than the victim. Sometimes there's just nothing you can do."

"I know. But-"

"Sara," Grissom stopped her, his tone a little more harsh, "you can't blame yourself for this. You're part of one of the best labs in the country. If there was something at the first scene that would have lead us to the killer, we would have found it the first time. You're a great CSI, Sara, you can't let these things get to you."

She smiled at him. Even if they'd only been together for three weeks, he always knew what to say to make her feel better. After washing the dishes, Sara went to leave, but as she walked to the door, her stomach felt queasy for a moment. Momentarily confused, she stopped, and sat down on the couch.

"You okay?" Grissom asked, walking over.

"Yeah, this is the most I've eaten all day. I don't think my stomach took it very well."

"You want me to get you something?"

"No, thanks, I need to get home." She rose to leave, "thank you for the dinner, Grissom." she kissed him on the cheek, and hurried out the door.

That was strange, she thought, pulling out of Grissom's driveway. She'd gone much longer without food before, and that had never happened. Probably just a stomach virus.

Again, if only fate would have it.

Another week past, and Sara wasn't feeling any better. She was feeling worse, actually. She didn't think anyone had noticed. But by the next week, the one person she didn't want to, did.

"Sara, are you feeling okay?" Grissom asked after everyone had left the break room, "you look a little pale."

"I'm fine, Griss. It's just a stomach virus. And being called in on my day off didn't help much, either."

He gave her a look. "Fine. But if you're not feeling better by next week," he looked around to see if anyone was listening, "I'm making you an appointment."

"Okay, fine, Dr. Grissom. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go meet Nick and Warrick." She teased, taking her assignment slip and walking out the door.

She met up with them in the parking lot, and headed out. They met up with Det. O'Riley, a rather chubby detective, who described the scene to them. As they ducked under that tape, though, Sara's stomach got that nauseous feeling again.

"I hope you brought extra supplies," O'Riley said.

"Why's that?" Sara asked.

"'Cause you're gonna be here a while." O'Riley pulled up the garage door. At the same time, their jaws dropped. It was like walking into a battle field. There were bullet holes everywhere, with beams of light shining through them. On the floor, lied hundreds of cartridge casings. But in the middle of that, lied a dead boy.

"Looks like a war zone." Nick commented.

Feeling her stomach becoming more unsettled, she let out a heavy sigh as they walked in.

"We got an ID on the body?" Warrick asked as they approached.

"No cash, no ID, just a driver's permit."

"Driver's permit? What is he, sixteen?" Sara asked, shocked.

"Fifteen in a half," O'Riley corrected.

"Tell the coroner to watch his step, there's casings and blood everywhere." Warrick warned. "Divide and conquer? Inside or outside?"

"Outside perimeter." Sara said quickly, feeling sick. What the heck was wrong with her? She immediately began processing once she was outside, hoping the fresh air and concentration would distract her from her upset stomach. She photographed tire treads and footprints, and after going onto the roof, discovered a long bamboo stick, with strange marks going down it.

"Hey guys," she called, walking back in, "what do you make of this piece of bamboo? I found it on the roof."

"Bag it," Nick joked.

"That's funny, very funny." Had she not felt so sick it might have really been funny. "Did you check out the hole in the roof?" She asked, looking up at the square hole.

"You find anything else up there?" Nick asked. "No," her voice lowered as her vision became a little blurry. She wasn't even aware of Warrick talking until he was nearly finished.

"…what's you're count?" She heard him ask Nick.

"One hundred and nine,"

She knew they were talking, but all she could think of was getting out of their, and getting her stomach to calm down.

"What in the hell went on in here?" She finally spoke, looking at the hole covered wall. Suddenly, it felt as though her stomach had flipped. Oh, shit, she thought. She needed to get outside. Now.

Without saying a word, Sara walked out the door, one hand on her stomach. Feeling the sting of bile rising in her throat, her pace quickened into a light job. She needed to get as far away from the crime scene as she could.

She knew Nick had called for her, but she couldn't answer him. When she felt like she was far enough away, she felt light headed, and had to hold on to the fence with one arm for support. Thank God they officers left, she thought.

"Sara? You okay?" She heard Nick ask, his voice not far behind her. She knew Warrick wasn't far behind him. "Sara?" He asked again, placing a hand on her back.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," She half whispered, half choked as she put her other hand on one of her knees.

"What?"

"I think-" she couldn't even finish her sentence, quickly looking away, she vomited.

Yeah, this was a crazy chapter. Probably not what most of you were expecting, but I hope you liked it. I to put more into this chapter, but it was getting to long.

Please review, but if you don't like it, don't be mean.