Happy New Year Everyone!

bonne annee; felice anno nuovo; feliz ano nuevo; chuc mung nam moi; ein gluckliches neues jahr; gott nytt ar; gelukkig nieuwjaar; akemashite omedetou gozaimasu; szczesliwego nowego roku

Apologies if I missed any of you, but I hope you all have a good night!

x x x x

Without giving her supervisor time to formulate a question Sara slid out from her trapped position, snatching her shirt off the bench and darting into the shower block.

Only afterwards did she realise that it was a bad idea, since now she was cornered. And sure enough, Catherine appeared in the doorway two steps behind her.

"Who is he?" The blonde asked, unusually calm but for a small quake to her voice.

"It's not what it looks like." Sara replied instantly, keeping her back turned as she attempted to redress as hurriedly as possible despite her trembling hands and sore muscles.

"I asked you a question Sara." Catherine said firmly, pushing herself off the doorframe and walking slowly across the room, her heels echoing on the tiled floor. "Who is he?"

"No one."

"Sara, give me a name." Cath pressed, whirling around so she was facing the panicked young woman.

Sara – tough, fearless Sara – was on the verge of tears. Her whole body was shaking and her skin was deathly white. Looking at her now, Catherine had never wanted so desperately to hold her and comfort her.

But she couldn't go soft on her yet. There would be no backing down this time, not until she got a straight answer.

X x x

"Hey," Nick greeted, wandering into the room with a puzzled frown. "What the hell's going on around here?"

"What do you mean?" Greg blinked at him, instinctively glancing around the room even though he knew they were alone.

Nick walked over and rested his hands on the bench.

"I'm talking about the girls, man. Sara's done another David Copperfield and Catherine's stalking around the place like a tiger that's lost her cub."

"David Copperfield?" Greg queried with unabashed amusement, cocking an eyebrow.

"Disappearing act." Nick explained. "What's wrong with them?"

Finally understanding his point, Greg dropped his gaze back to his work.

"Nothing, everything's fine." He shrugged, trying and failing miserably to sound blasé.

Nick narrowed his eyes in suspicion, not buying the act for a minute.

"You know something don't you?" The Texan challenged. Not trusting himself to lie to his friend, Greg simply shrugged again. Fed up of playing this game, Nick rolled his eyes. "Come on G, what's going on?"

This was precisely the reason Greg didn't like keeping people's secrets. He wasn't very good at it. Even as a kid his mom could always tell when he'd done something he shouldn't have.

Flicking his eyes briefly up to his co-worker's face, he felt himself breaking.

"Alright," he relented at last. "Sara's been sick lately, but she's better now."

"Sick?" Nick repeated, his brow furrowing in concern. "Sick how? What's wrong with her?"

"I don't know, I didn't ask!" Greg threw his hands up. "The point is, she's alright now and I don't think she wants a lot of attention about it."

Nick nodded slowly, acccepting the explanation.

"Yeah, okay." He agreed. "But, what about Catherine?"

"I don't know." Greg sighed, relaxing a little now that the heat was off him. "She was trying to get Sara to tell her what was wrong; maybe she hasn't found her yet."

"Yeah, well Sara does have that Houdini thing down to a talent." Nick chuckled. "I'll bet she's hiding in one of the first floor labs."

"Yeah," Greg agreed jovially, glad the atmosphere had lifted somewhat. "Just wait until Cath finally does catch up with her."

X x x

Every attempt by Sara to move out of reach was scuppered, until she found herself backed against the wall. Catherine never loosened her grip on the woman's arms, holding her gaze ardently.

"Sara, tell me!"

"You don't understand." Sara continued to make concerted efforts to free herself, but they were all in vain.

"Don't I?" Cath challenged with a raised eyebrow. "Honey, I've been where you are and I know how scared you must be right now." She pointed out earnestly. "I can help, but you have to talk to me. Sar, darling, you have to trust me."

Sara looked away, refusing to let Catherine see the tears that were finally spilling down her pale cheeks.

Cath dropped her head sadly, never releasing her grip on the girl. Sara's shirt still hung open, revealing her toned stomach that quivered with every breath.

"I can take this further if I need to." She mumbled at last. "I don't want to have to do that, but I will."

"What do you mean?" Sara asked cautiously, shifting her gaze back up.

"I can tell Grissom, Brass…Ecklie."

It wasn't exactly an idle threat, she would tell them if she had to; but she hoped it would be enough to push Sara into opening up. And it seemed to do the trick; Sara's face fell with fear.

"You wouldn't." She whispered in a frightened voice.

"I don't want to." Cath reiterated softly. "But I will."

"No one else can know!" Sara yelped unexpectedly, startling them both.

"No one else needs to." Catherine assured her, taken aback by the sudden outburst but recovering quickly. "But you have to tell me what's going on."

Finally relaxing her grip a little, she tried to seek out Sara's eyes but the brunette had resumed her stance of staring at the floor. Eventually she wriggled free and stalked across the room to rest her head against the far wall.

Deciding to give her a minute to calm herself, Cath took a couple of steps closer but maintained a fair distance between them.

"Sara, I know men like this. I know what they're capable of." She said at last, her voice low and huskier than before.

To her surprise, Sara emitted bitter laugh and shook her head.

"You don't get it."

Catherine stared at her tensing back, confusion masking her features. She was clearly missing something here, but unless Sara told her what it was…

Slowly, as she reviewed what she'd just said, a realisation began to form in her mind. All of a sudden it was so obvious; it was right there in front of her but she'd been too blind to see it - diet pills, curfews after work, persistent phonecalls mid-shift ... and the slender bruises on her arm which were punctuated by five sharp nail marks.

Catherine took a careful step closer, clearing her throat softly.

"It's not a man, is it?"