Back To You

Chapter 6:


Sara wiped at the tears that were cascading down her pale skin as she headed for the front door of the Stokes home. It wasn't that she was expecting either of Nick's parents to be over joyed with the news . . . but she'd expected a reaction, not silence.


She reached out for the door knob, turning it and exiting the house as quietly as she'd entered, but this time, the door squeaked, asking to be oiled.


Jillian heard the noise of the front door and was startled out of her thoughts. She was leaving. She jumped up quickly, knocking over the wooden chair that she'd been sitting in in her attempt to reach Sara before it was too late.


Bill noticed a flash of greying brown hair flying behind his wife as she took off, and quickly followed.


"Sara!" Jillian hollered, yanking the front door of her large country home. She raced out onto the covered wrap-around deck, the screen door snapping shut behind her so quickly that Bill jumped when it nearly accosted him.


"Please, don't go," Jillian sobbed as she made her way towards Sara as quickly as she could, though she was barefoot on a gravel driveway. She reached out her hand and touched the womans shoulder, effectively stopping her. But she didn't turn around. "I'm sorry . . . I just . . . . we just . . . Sara, we're shocked, is all."


Sara nodded her head, which was bowed toward the ground. Her shoulders shook slightly and she gasped for air. The tears were pouring like rain in the rain forest during a heavy storm.


"Would you come inside?" Bill asked quietly as he approached the two women. "I think we have some things that we need to talk about."


Sara took a deep breath to calm her frayed emotions and to get some of her barings back. She nodded her head. "Yeah, I guess that'd be OK." When she turned around, she offered them a tired, weary smile.


Bill extended his arm out and took the keys to her car from Sara's hand. He hit the power unlock button and reached into the back seat for her duffle bag, slinging it over his shoulder. When he turned around, he saw Jillian and Sara leaning against one another, arms around the others waist as they silently walked back to the front door. He smiled sadly, hitting the automatic lock button. The cars horn honked in answer that it was indeed locked up tight. He looked up at the big, Texas sky. Stars shining brightly. "You did good, Poncho. Real good." Then he followed in the footsteps of his wife and Sara, and headed towards the front door.


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The remainder of the night shift all sat cross legged on Nick's living room floor, sorting through Nick's pictures. A large amount were left loose in a box, while others had been neatly pressed into photo albums. They had been entrusted by Nick's parents to sort through his personal belongings. It was just too hard for them to do emotionally, and being that they were so far away physically, entrusting Nick's best friends and co-workers, with whom he trusted his life, seemed like the right thing to do.


They had gone through the baby book, which had a note inside which let them know that the pictures were of Nick and his siblings at various stages of infancy to kindergarden. Even though his mother still held his baby book at home, full of photos of no one but him, she'd given him the book as a reminder of he and his siblings. It had been one of those sentimental Christmas gifts, which Nick had obviously held dear to him. All of the Stokes children had received the same one that very year. The other albums had consisted of sporting events that he'd attended over the years. From Dallas Cowboys games to Nascar races at the Las Vegas Speedway, they were all there. He was definitely a big fan of sports. Another had been of his parents, and their lives together. Another of extended family. Another of family reunions and holidays. Another of his days in high school, and the last one, his days in college.


Catherine dumped the box of loose photos on to the floor. "Men," she grumbled.


Grissom smirked. "As much as I like order and semblence," he started, "somethings just aren't worth the time."


Warrick snorted. "Aint that the truth," he agreed. Catherine's glare fixed on the dark man. He looked at her, and apologized quickly. "Well, I'm sorry. But how often do you pull out your photo albums and flip through the pages? How often do you find the time to organize the new photos you've taken and place them in an album?" She just continued to stare, but said nothing. "That's what I thought."


"Nick's family would probably like to have these," Greg said, grabbing random pictures from various places in the pile. "They're of his time here in Vegas."


"Of us," Catherine said, her eyes tearing up. She picked up a picture and smiled.


*Flashback*


"Come pway wif me," Lindsay begged as she grabbed his hand.


"All right, all right, Little Darlin'," he drawled, allowing the small blond girl to lead him towards the trampoline.


"Lindsay," Catherine scolded her. "Manners, young lady."


"Sowwy," she offered timidly, "Come pway wif me, pwease!" She begged, though she giggled at the end, knowing full well that Nicky would do anything she asked of him.


Catherine stood back on the stone patio of her home in her back yard. The hot afternoon sun was sweltering, and it was her little girls birthday. The party was long since over and Eddie had yet to return home. She was livid, and the little girl was obviously disappointed, but having her favorite Uncles, Nick and Warrick, helped ease her pain. Warrick stepped back outside, sliding the patio door shut in an attempt to keep the cool air inside, and the hot out.


"You're little girl is something else," Warrick commented. Though he couldn't say he was jealous of Catherine's marriage, he could definitely say he was unhappy. Eddie was an ass for treating her and their daughter the way that he did. He could only hope that one day, if he were really lucky, he could find a woman like Catherine and their child, or children, would be as blessed as Lindsay was to have a mother like she did.


Catherine nodded her head solemnly, bringing the camera up to her eye, looking through the view finder. She watched as Nick easily lifted Lindsay up onto the trampoline that Eddie had assembled on one of his rare 'good days.' He quickly followed, standing on the bouncing surface, bobbing his knees, making the material sway. Lindsay giggled and held out her hands for Nick to take so they could easily jump hand in hand. The flash went off and she sighed. "I just hope that Eddie get's his act together," she admitted quietly. "She's only three now, but I know that him not being here today upset her."


"You too," Warrick pointed out.


"I'm beyond upset," she answered without emotion. "Believe me, Eddie's going to be singing soprano when he gets home. But right now, I'm just more concerned about what Eddie's lacking in the parental skills department. It won't be long until Linday starts to hold grudges and I don't want her to be bitter."


Catherine, ever quick with reflexes, brought the camera up, and framing the picture, taking a shot. Nick had just suddenly brought his legs out from under himself, falling onto the material. His weight sent the young, light girl soaring in to the air as she laughed happily.


Warrick chuckled. "No matter what," he said, "and believe me, I know it's not the same, but she'll always have Nick and I in her life."


Catherine smiled, and leaned into Warrick lightly. "I'm counting on the two of you to show her that there really are good men in this world."


*End flashback*


Catherine sat the photo back into the box, knowing that she had a copy of it back home . . .


"What're these?" Grissom asked as he pulled an envelope stuffed with pictures. He pulled out the glossy stack. "Oh, it's from the confrence in New York City."


Greg peered over Grissom's shoulder, checking out the pics. "Oh yeah. From a few months back. I told them that they had to eat at Junior's," he said proudly. While his family wasn't from the city itself, having studied at NYU for a few years, he felt like that city was home to him. And he loved it.


"Ha!" Warrick chuckled, grabbing a picture from the stack still firmly held in Grissom's hands. He glanced up and saw three curious faces, so he turned the photo around and showed the group. "Not too long before they went to the conference, Nick and I were in the breakroom," he started. "There was some Entertainment show on and some celebrity was standing in the middle of Times Square holding out his arms like he was presenting the world with this gem. Like they'd created it. We laughed it off, thinking it was really cheesey. Sara came in and saw what we were laughing at. She said she'd find a way to get Nick to do the same thing." Warrick turned the picture around to look at it wistfully. He'd forgotten about that conversation until he'd seen the picture. "I guess she succeeded." He thought back to that day and could vaguely remember a look that had passed between the two when she said that she'd get Nick to do it . . . and Nick's response of 'I don't doubt you will' . . .


Grissom sat the stack of pictures down and Catherine reached for one. "Oh, this is cute," she commented. "They obviously hit some of the tourist attractions." In her hand, she held a picture of the two of them on the top, and outside, of the Empire State Building. It was evening and the city was lit up. Must've been chilly as both Nick and Sara were bundled up in heavy jackets and scarves. A slight skiff of snow was sitting on the ledge, and a few flakes were falling down onto the city behind them. Nick was obviously holding the camera as his arms were stretched out in front of them and Sara was settled against his chest, her head lolled to the side, sitting in the crook of his neck. Though it took a fairly decent and close up picture of their faces, she could clearly see the Chrysler Building behind them.


Greg smirked. "At least he wasn't taking a picture of just himself."


"Here they are in Central Park," Grissom said. They were standing in front of a cement bench near Bethesda's Fountain. The snow was obviously deep. Of course, they had all known that. During the time of the conference, the city had ended up at a virtual stand still as a huge snow storm blew in and closed all major airports up and down the Eastern Sea Board. They're trip had been extended by nearly four days due to all the delays. He furrowed his brow, noting how Nick's arm was slipped around her lower back, his leather gloved hand, slightly gripping her hip. He noticed that although her arm was around his waist too, he couldn't see her hand. He chalked it up to the fact that it wasn't inframe as the photo had been taken obviously by a third party with a less than steady hand. Not only was her hand not in frame, but the picture was slightly angled. Little did he know, her hand had discreetly dipped into the back pocket of his jeans, cupping his ass. Hence, the large smile across his face.


"Oh yeah," Catherine smiled. "Sara told me about Central Park buried in all that snow. She loved it. Said they had a snow ball fight and acted like five year olds."


"I can't imagine Sara acting like a kid," Greg shrugged.


"Nicky could bring that side out of anyone if he tried hard enough," Warrick commented. "He and Sara were tight. I bet he could've asked her to do just about anything and she'd do it."


"I felt kind of bad for her though," Greg said. "Before they left, Sara had mentioned always wanting to take a carriage ride through the park with someone that she loved. Nick said he'd take her if she'd have him."


"Ever the gentleman," Catherine smiled. "Don't feel too bad, though," she glanced at Greg. "He did take her for that carriage ride before the park was burried. The first night they were there, as a matter of fact. Sara had mentioned to me when they made it home that they'd gone out the evening that they'd arrived. It was snowing that night too."


"Oh, here's one," Greg said, sifting through the pictures and pulling one out. They were sitting on the bench in the back of the horse drawn carriage. Obviously Sara was holding the camera this time. Nick had his left arm craddled around her waist and his chin rested on her right shoulder. They leaned their heads against one another, smiling broadly.


"Man they looked so happy," Warrick commented.


"They would have made a cute couple," Grissom observed and said almost too quiet for anyone to hear. But they did hear him. He sighed and waved it off. Yes, although he did have romantic feelings for Sara, he knew that he would never act on them. It would be unfair of him if he wanted her to be waiting in the wings for him to get it together.


"They would've been great together, too," Catherine decided to say. "I never really noticed before now, but they would've been."


"Opposites attract," Warrick nodded.


"But no matter what, we'd still be here right now. And if they had been together, Sara would be hurting a whole lot more right now," Greg pointed out. "She's obviously taking it pretty hard as it is."


The four sat in silence and continued to sort through the photos of their departed friend.


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The three adults sat in the living room not saying much of anything. An uncomfortable silence hung in the air, no one really knowing where to begin, but knowing that someone had to make the first move.


"How are you?" Jillian finally decided on how to start. "I mean, how are you really?"


This time, Sara offered her a tired smile. It would be useless to say that she was fine. She was far from it. "Scared."


Jillian nodded. "I understand. We were trying to conceive, but it still didn't lessen the shock any when we found out we were expecting our oldest."


Sara nodded her head. She didn't think Jillian truly understood, but it didn't really matter. "Nick and I weren't trying, though. We were being careful," she thought about that little pack of birth control pills that she took faithfully. She'd never missed a single pill, and had always taken it at the same time. "I guess we just fell into that small percentage where it doesn't work." She looked down at her hands, fidgeting nervously with her finger nails that were becoming shorter by the day. She'd been gnawing at them all the way from Arizona to Texas and was surprised she had any nails left at all. "I never thought of myself as a mother."


"You don't want children?" Bill asked tentatively. He didn't want to scare her off, but he knew that he didn't want his grandchild being raised by strangers. He wanted a chance to know his youngest childs baby. And if he and Jillian couldn't convince Sara to keep the baby, they would raise their grandchild . . . assuming that she planned to carry on with the pregnancy at all . . . .


Sara's hand found her abdomen. "I love this baby. But I've never thought of myself as mother material. The idea of having a baby scares the shit out of me, actually. But he made me see myself differently. That maybe I could be a good mother." She blinked back tears. "I only just started to let myself believe that we could work out. That we could have a good life together. That maybe we'd have kids . . . . but he's gone. And now I'm pregnant."


"But you're not alone," Jillian said quietly as she removed herself from her perch on the sofa beside Bill. She sat down beside sara on the love seat and wrapped her arms around the young woman.


"What are you going to do?" Bill asked her. "I mean, are you going back to work in Vegas, or . . . ?" He really didn't know what else she would be doing . . .


Sara shook her head. "Not right now. Grissom put me on an LOA, and -"


"Why did he do that?"


Sara looked down at her hands, avoiding their stares. When Jillian grasped one of her hands in her own, Sara couldn't help but look up and meet the womans gaze. "I can't make it seem real." She sniffed, furiously brushing the torrent of tears away from her eyes. "Everyone has told me that he's gone. He's not coming back. But I can't accept that."


Jillian tried her best to keep her own tears at bay. She knew all to well what Sara was feeling. "It doesn't seem real to me either."


"I don't feel it in my heart. If he's gone, wouldn't I feel it?"


Bill smiled sympathetically at the CSI before him. If he hadn't known about 'Sunshine', and Sara had been a complete shock to him, he would've laughed at such a ridiculous comment. How could someone who'd been dating his son for only nine months have that deep of a connection to literally feel if he were gone? But from speaking with Nick about his Sunshine, he knew that they were connected on a deep level. Beyond comprehension.


"What have you been doing since he put you on LOA?" Bill asked her.


"Honestly . . . just driving around. I was so mad at him for doing that. I felt like working was all I had left to keep me sane. And he took that away from me. I realized a few hours later that I was pregnant. I didn't take a test, or see the doctor. I just knew. I realized that in Nick's house. And even though I was terrified, I could almost feel him there with me."


"Have you seen the doctor since then?" Jillian asked.


Sara nodded. "Nick was going to take me to Arizona the weekend that it happened," she said, not able to say the words. "When I left Vegas, I just got in my car and drove. I ended up in Scottsdale. I rented a room at the resort we were going to stay at. I realized that if it was the last thing I could do for him, I could have his baby. So, I took the test and it was positive. I saw the doctor the next morning and she confirmed it. I'm about a month and a half along." Her heavy eyes drooped and she surpressed a yawn.


Bill looked at his watch and noticed how late it had gotten. "We can talk more in the morning," he said. "You look exhausted."


Jillian nodded in agreement. "Bill, will you put her bag in Nick's room?"


"Oh no," Sara shook her head, standing up. "I don't want to put you out."


"You're not," Bill said in a tone that reminded Sara of when Nick was protective. "Besides, you're having our grandchild. A bed to sleep on, and a room to stay in, is the least we can do."


"If you're sure," Sara smiled genuinely.


"Absolutely," Jillian nodded, taking Sara's arm and threading it with her own. "We wouldn't have it any other way."


Bill grabbed the duffle bag from the foot of the staircase and made his way upstairs, his wife and Sara following behind him . . .


TBC . . .
 
Chapter 7:

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Sara woke up to the early morning Texas sun filtering through the blue blinds in Nick's childhood bedroom. It was obvious that this was Nick's room when he was a teenager as Dallas Cowboy posters, and football paraphenalia lined the walls and shelves. Including his trophy from leading his High School football team to the State Championship and winning. His team picture was framed and hanging near the trophy. Nick was the Quarterback.

Jillian had lead Sara into the room with teary eyes, explaining that she had sat in his room for many hours since she and Bill had returned from Vegas because it made her feel closer to Nick. She'd also said that when Nick left home, and went to college, she didn't change anything about his room. She wanted him to know that no matter what, he would always have a room at their home.

"This is where your Daddy grew up, Baby," she said softly to her stomach, her palm flat against her abdomen. As much as she fought it, a tear slipped down her face. She didn't want to believe that Nick would never get to feel the baby kick inside of her. That'd he'd never see it's picture during an ultrasound. That he wouldn't be beside her in the delivery room. That'd he'd never hold his son or daughter. That his son or daughter would never meet him and find out for themselves what an incredible man he was.

knock, knock

"Sara? Are you awake, Dear?" Jillian asked softly from behind the closed door in the hallway.

She cleared her throat and wiped away the tear that was falling down her cheek. "Yes, I'm up. Come in." She pushed herself up right in the bed, the covers falling to her waist.

Jillian slowly entered and gave her a comforting, but small, smile. "Good morning."

"Morning," she smiled back with her sleep laden voice.

"Did you sleep well?" Jillian asked hesitantly. It wasn't until long after she'd gone to bed, after hours of lying awake thinking about her son, and now, his unborn child, that she wondered if having Sara sleep in his bed was such a good idea. Bill who'd been tossing and turning all night knew what she was thinking and told her that Sara would be fine, and if not, they could make a different arrangement in the morning.

"Yeah," she sighed. "I did. It's a little weird though. This is a side of Nick that he only told me about. Now I'm in the middle of it. But it makes me feel closer to him."

Jillian smiled warmly, nodding in understanding. That is why she spent hours in that room, just soaking in Nick the way she remembered.

"I just wanted to tell you that breakfast is ready if you're hungry. If you're not, you can always eat later," she answered.

Sara's face paled as the smell of a good country breakfast wafted up the stairs and into the bedroom. "Oh, God," her hand flew up to her mouth and she leapt from the bed as quickly as she could, running to the bathroom that was ajoined to another one of the upstairs bedrooms. She emptied the contents of her stomach which consisted of next to nothing.

Jillian followed behind Sara, grabbing a clean glass from the counter behind the sink, thankful that she'd thought about bringing it upstairs. "I thought the glass might come in handy," she said quietly, filling it with cold tap water. She handed it to a grateful Sara who was sitting on her heels, perched over the toilet in anticipation that it wasn't over. "Bill started to anticipate my morning sickness and kept a clean glass in our bathroom for moments exactly like this."

Sara nodded her head, but instantly regretted it as another wave of nausea washed over her. She sat the glass down roughly on the tiled floor, the glass clanking loudly against the hard material, as she threw up again.

Jillian bent down and rubbed Sara's lower back in soothing, small circles. "Better?"

"I guess," she said, her voice echoing into the bowl. "I hate this," she groaned.

"It'll pass," Jillian said comfortingly.

"My sense of smell is just so sensitive right now," she said, slowing sitting back and leaning against the bath tub, taking comfort in the cold surface it provided against her back.

"Oh, no," Jillian felt horrible. "Sara, I didn't mean for . . . I'm so sorry."

Sara offered her a genuine smile. "No, it's OK. Yesterday morning I was at a hotel and it was the smell of the breakfast muffins that did me in. Today is completely different."

"I wasn't really sure what you'd want. If there is anything you'd like, let me know and I can whip it up for you."

Sara smiled gratefully. "If you don't mind, I think I'm just going to camp out up here for a little bit. Give the smell a chance to subside a little."

Jillian nodded. "I could bring you something," she offered.

"No, that's alright," she declined. "Food isn't terribly appetizing right now."

Jillian understood the feeling, but a sense of protectiveness washed over her. "Sara, you're eating for two now, and -"

"I know," she smiled softly. "And I will eat. I just need to let my stomach settle." Jillian looked apprehensive for a moment, but nodded her head after a moment, smiling. She turned to leave the bathroom, but stopped when Sara spoke. "Jillian?" Sara watched the woman turn around and meet her gaze. "Thank you. For everything."

"You're welcome, Dear," she said. "Bill is working from home today. He'll be in and out of the house, going to the stables and doing little things around the Ranch. I have to go into the office, but I'll be back around two this afternoon. I hope you'll stay . . . ? I think we still have a couple of things to talk about, hmm?"

Sara smiled. "Yeah, sure. I'll be here when you get back."

"Good," Jillian sighed. She felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. "I'll see you this afternoon then."

Sara nodded her head in slight affirmation, happy that it didn't induce more sickness. She watched as Jillian exited the washroom, then heard the gentle click of the bedroom door closing behind her.

Twenty minutes later, Sara exited the bathroom, wrapped in a bath towl, and using a second towel to dry her hair. She opened her suitcase and searched the clothes for something to wear. But her hand hit a hard case. Knowing what it was, she pulled it out. Looking at the discs label, she traced Nick's scrawl tenderly. She put it aside, still having been unable to listen to it, to hear it's contents. She continually glanced at it as she ran her hair brush through her wet, tangled hair. She pulled on a pair of jeans and a white tank top.

She backed up to the bed, sitting down, her eyes now completely glued on the jewel case. She chewed on her bottom lip nervously. When a warm breeze blew in through the window, caressing her like a warm hug, she smiled, knowing it was time.

She stood back up and walked the short distance to the dresser, grabbing the case gingerly. She walked to the other side of the room where Nick's CD player sat, obviously a new addition to the room. She placed the disc in the player then sat back down on the bed, CD remote firmly in hand.

Breathing deeply, she pressed play. Immediately, tears welled up in her eyes, but she smiled brightly as Nick's voice filtered through the room.

"So, this is what I've been working on," he said, and she could hear the smile that was obviously firmly affixed to his face. "I feel kind of stupid right now, sitting here in the office, talking to myself. You're at work. You're definitely a curious one, Sunshine," he chuckled. "I've pretty much been unable to work on it when you're around. Always wanting to know what I'm doing."

Sara laughed quietly, wiping away the tears that were now falling freely and quickly.

"I decided that I wanted to make you a CD. I know I tell you all the time how much I love you," she smiled even wider at that because he did tell her all the time. And she told him that she loved him back, all the time. "But sometimes it's just not enough. And I know that the guys always give me hell for liking - pardon me - loving country music," he chuckled again, correcting himself, "but some of the songs really do describe how much I love you, though not even these songs could tell you just how much. I'm not sure I could even do justice to telling you just how much."

She heard him move around a little, the rustling of sheets, and him repositioning himself in the chair, acoustic guitar in hand.

"So, I have a few songs that I wanted to put on this CD for you. Sing to you. I spent a lot of time trying to narrow it down, but it was really difficult. I hope that once I've given this to you, you'll be able to realize just how much I love you. Cherish you. Want to spend my life with you. I've never loved anyone the way that I love you, Sara. And I never will again. You're it for me."

She leaned back against the fluffy pillows, knowing that she wouldn't be able to stop crying . . . .

"I probably shouldn't start with this song," she heard him say, "but I think it's probably one of the most important songs. I don't ever want you to doubt how I feel. Not ever."

Sara listened the chords that Nick was strumming on his guitar. It was framiliar, but she couldn't quite place it.

Sometimes late at night

I lie awake and watch her sleeping

Shes lost in peaceful dreams

So I turn out the lights and lay there in the dark

And the thought crosses my mind

If I never wake up in the morning

Would she ever doubt the way I feel

About her in my heart

"Oh, Nick," she sniffed, pulling a pillow out from behind her and hugging it to her chest. She looked at his High School Graduation picture that sat on the night side table. Jillian had told her that Nick hadn't wanted it there, but after he went off to college, she put it in there anyway. She liked being able to walk into the room and feel her son all around. She also said that any time Nick would come home to visit, she would remove the photo, and then put it back when it he left.

If tomorrow never comes

Will she know how much I loved her

Did I try in every way to show her every day

That shes my only one

And if my time on earth were through

And she must face the world without me

Is the love I gave her in the past

Gonna be enough to last

If tomorrow never comes

cause Ive lost loved ones in my life

Who never knew how much I loved them

Now I live with the regret

That my true feelings for them never were revealed

So I made a promise to myself

To say each day how much she means to me

And avoid that circumstance

Where theres no second chance to tell her how I feel

"That's your Daddy," she said shakily, caressing her stomach. "Listen closely, sweetie. He has a wonderful voice."

If tomorrow never comes

Will she know how much I loved her

Did I try in every way to show her every day

That shes my only one

And if my time on earth were through

And she must face the world without me

Is the love I gave her in the past

Gonna be enough to last

If tomorrow never comes

cause Ive lost loved ones in my life

Who never knew how much I loved them

Now I live with the regret

That my true feelings for them never were revealed

So I made a promise to myself

To say each day how much she means to me

And avoid that circumstance

Where theres no second chance to tell her how I feel

So tell that someone that you love

Just what youre thinking of

If tomorrow never comes"

Sara turned off the stereo after the song finished playing. She knew that there were more songs on the CD, but she just couldn't listen to them. Not yet. Her heart physically ached and sobs racked her body. She fell into an exhausted sleep, her palm flat against her abdomen.

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She awoke just before one that afternoon, a little hungry. She stretched in bed, rolling over and accidentally hitting the remote. Though she knew she would only cry more, she couldn't turn him off. No matter what, she just couldn't not listen to this song. His song. One of his songs for her.

On the eighth day God noticed a problem

For there below him stood a cowboy alone

Stubborn and proud, reckless and loud

God knew hed never make it on his own

So God looked out all over creation

And listened as that cowboy prayed

God took passion and thunder

Patience and wonder then he sent down

The best thing that God ever made.

Cowboys and angels leather and lace

Salt of the earth meets heavenly grace

Cowboys and angels tested and tried

Its a long way to heaven

And one hell of a ride.

Nothins changed since the dawn of creation

For you will find them together today

And only heaven above them knows why

She loves him

But he must be the reason she dont fly away.

Cowboys and angels leather and lace

Salt of the earth meets heavenly grace

Cowboys and angels tested and tried

Its a long way to heaven

And one hell of a ride.

Its a long way to heaven

And one hell of a ride.

Sara smiled softly, rubbing her eyes, ridding herself of the tears that were falling. She couldn't help but laugh. She could only picture Nick having a hard time deciding whether or not to include this song. She always told him that he was her Cowboy. And she told him that not only was she his Sunshine, she was his Angel. And of course, the whole 'leather or lace?' conversation when they'd first met had probably played into his decision since the lyrics fit perfectly.

Once again, she turned off the radio. She stood up and looked at herself in the mirror. Deciding that she was presentable enough, she ran a hand through her slightly mused up hair as she made her way out of the room on the second floor, and down the stairs to the kitchen.

She pulled out a pasta salad from the fridge, which Jillian had left her a note about, knowing that she was a vegetarian. She ate the food with vigor, a satisified feeling came over her. She decided that she needed some fresh air and made her way through the back doors to the back part of the wrap-around deck. She wandered down the few stairs to the cement that surrounded the backyard pool. The water was glistening in the hot afternoon sun. The blue-green color of the liner was mesmerizing as she sat down on a lounge chair, kicking her legs up. Somehow, she could see Nick as a teenager, being the friendly guy that he was, having friends over for BBQs, and being the life of the party.

"Afternoon," Bill tipped his cowboy hat in her direction as he sat down on the lounge chair beside her.

She smiled at him. "Good afternoon."

"Feeling better?" he asked, giving her a sympathetic smile. When she looked at him curiously, he clarified. "I talked to Jillian before she left."

"Ah," she nodded. "Yeah, for now anyway."

"Have you eaten anything?" he asked. "I could fix you a sandwich or something. One of those Veggie bagels or something. They're actually real good. I'm a meat and potatos man myself, but one of those Veggie concoctions isn't so bad every once in a while."

Sara laughed lightly. Yep, Nick said the same thing.

"I just had some of the pasta salad that Jillian left in the fridge."

"She should be back soon," he said, glancing at his wrist watch. The two sat there in silence for a few minutes before he continued. "You know, Jillian and I were talking last night . . . Nick's life insurance policy and his savings account -- he had them signed over to us in case anything ever happened to him. Since we don't need the money, we were going to split it up amoung his nieces and nephews. Of course, we've already got trust funds set up for them," he said. He noticed Sara's eyes as wide as saucers. She was obviously shocked. He chuckled. "I take it Nick never told you?" She shook her head no. "That doesn't surprise me. It always made him a little uncomfortable. Besides, he was determined to make it on his own with no help from anyone. Aside from my being a Judge and his mother a DA, we own a couple of Oil Fields. Here on this property, actually. Bought it long before we even knew there was oil under all this," he stomped his foot on the pavement under his foot. "Anyway, Nicky hadn't even been born yet, but we'd made a nifty little profit. And since we already had a comfortable income with our jobs, we decided that we'd take most of the money and set up trust funds for the kids. Nick never dipped into his, though."

Sara sat in silence as Bill just allowed her to let everything sink in. When she found her voice, she said, "I'm not exactly sure why you're telling me all this."

"You're having Nick's baby," he answered as if it were the most logical thing in the world and she shouldn't even need to ask that. "Nick was a good man. And I know that even if this baby would've been a shock to him, he would've been thrilled. And he would've taken care of his family. You and the baby."

"Mr. Stokes, I -"

"It's Bill," he corrected her.

"Sorry," she smiled sheepishly, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "I know all that. But I didn't come here for money. I came here because I knew that Nick would want you and Jillian to know about the baby. And I know that Nick would've felt that you two deserved to hear the news in person, and not over the phone. That's why I came here. Not for money."

Bill smirked. "Ah, I see you're as stubborn as he was about money. Determined that you don't need anyones help."

"I don't," she told him. "I'm perfectly capable of raising this baby on my salary. I've been careful with my money, and I have a good sized savings account."

Jillian cleared her throat from the desk, announcing her presense. "I see you two started without me," she glanced at Sara, then fixed her stare on Bill disapprovingly.

"Sorry, Honey," he apologized. They had agreed to talk about this with Sara together, but he just couldn't wait.

"I appreciate what you're trying to do," Sara said, "but honestly, I can't accept any money. Even if it was Nick's."

"Sara," Jillian started calmly, sitting down on the lounge chair her husband occupied, "if Nick had known about the baby, there is no doubt in my mind he would've wanted you to have the money."

She closed her eyes, knowing that they were right. But accepting the money would be like accepting he was gone, and she just wasn't ready to do that. "Then set up a trust for the baby."

"Sara," Bill pressed, but stopped when he saw her getting upset.

"Please," she said. "I can't deny you giving his money to his child. But if you give it to me, I won't use it."

Jillian sighed, and nodded her head. "OK, obviously this isn't something that you're ready to deal with yet. So, how about we talk about something else?"

Sara wasn't entirely sure she was ready to discuss anything else. Between Nick's sweet, soulful voice serenading her, and his parents offering her his money, combined with the nausea, she was still exhausted despite her nap.

"We know that you aren't going back to work right away," Bill started. She looked up ready to protest, and he was sure she was going to relate it back to the money, so he continued. "That's fine. Really. But neither of us is particularly comfortable with you driving around aimlessly. And if you can't go back to Vegas yet . . . "

"We want you to stay with us," Jillian announced.

Sara sat in silence, looking at the two of them as if they'd lost their minds . . . .

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Grissom, Catherine, Warrick and Greg sat around the conference table going over some evidence in one of the biggest cases in Vegas that night.

" . . . so, what you're saying is that there are excellent reasons for each of the three suspects to have their prints on the murder weapon?" Greg asked, unsure that Grissom had actually just as much.

"Well, our vic was a very rich and powerful man," Catherine interjected. "He was notorious for going through hired help just like one changes their underwear. And those that do stick around are generally unable to leave because they are in this country illegally. Knowing that, and the fact that Mr. Dahlmer had a sweet tooth for blackmail, I'd say he held minimum wage ransom and paid the ones that couldn't quit far less than someone who is a legal resident."

"Which would give the maid motive," Warrick sighed, rubbing his eyes. "And being that she's a maid, that's plausible for how her fingerprints ended up on the knife."

"And Mr. Dahlmers son was pissed because he knew his father was cheating on his mother. And living the house gave him all the time in the world to commit a murder, and give plausible reason for his prints on the knife."

"And Mr. Curtis - his wife Maria, Mr. Dahlmer's secretary - finds out that his wife was steppin' out on him while in attendence of the party," Warrick leans back in his chair.

"Mr. Dahlmer was murdered in his own kitchen, during his party. A house full of guests, yet no one hears a thing. One murder weapon, three sets of justifiable prints . . . "

Catherine glances up and notices Brass standing in the doorway, looking troubled. "Hey, Jim. What's going on?"

He offered them a half smile. "Hey, guys."

Everyone greets him, curious to know what's got him in such a down mood.

He holds up a clear plastic freezer bag. "I doubt this'll do any good, but a civilian dropped it off at PD a little while ago. Says she found it on the street. Elderly lady. Sweet as Apple Pie. I doubt she has anything to hide. But I bagged it anyway. After going through it."

Grissom took the bag from Jim's hand. "What is it?"

Warrick leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. "Nick's wallet."

"Cash and credit cards are gone," Jim said, taking a seat next to Catherine.

"We canceled them pretty much right away," Warrick said. "The credit card companies would've notified someone if someone tried to use them."

"Maybe Identity theft?" Catherine suggested as a reason to steal a credit card but not use it. After all, all one needs is one important number to steal someone elses identity.

Grissom nodded his head in agreement. "It's possible. I can only imagine how many prints are on it besides Nick's, now."

"Looks like it's been in the elements for a while too," Greg noticed the once black leather was now faded and cracked, obviously from the heat of the Nevada sun.

"I did see something in there though that surprised me," Jim looked at all of the CSIs, Grissom last. He nodded to the bag. "Go ahead."

Grissom snapped on a pair of rubber gloves that he had in his lab pocket. After slipping the latex over his digits, he removed the wallet. He opened the flap and what he saw staring back at him left his mouth hanging open.

"What is it?" Greg asked.

"One of those strips of pictures from the photo booths at the mall," Grissom mumbled. He pulled the folded strip out and carefully examined each picture. He then passed it over to Catherine, who gave it to Warrick, who gave it to Greg.

While two pictures seemed to be pretty standard for photo booth pictures, it was the last two that held everyones attentions. In the third picture, second to last on the strip, Sara sat on Nick's lap, kissing him on the lips innocently. In the fourth picture, the last one, things had obviously gone from innocent to passionate very, VERY quickly.

"I guess they really did make a cute couple," Catherine said, pinching the bridge of her nose. She sighed. "Poor Sara. No wonder she reacted the way that she has."

"There's something else," Brass sighed, rolling his neck to the side, letting the muscles pop in relief. When he noted all four CSIs attention on him, he said the one thing that none of them expected him to say. "Kelly Gordon was released on Early parole this afternoon."

TBC . . . .

Songs: Garth Brooks "If Tomorrow Never Comes" and "Cowboys and Angels" -- no copyright infridgement intended.
 
Chapter 8:


Thanks for the reviews. I love 'em! :)


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"She's been what?" Greg blinked, looking at Brass like he hadn't heard him correctly.


He nodded his head. "The DA granted her the chance at Parole because she was the only one to talk after a beating nearly turned deadly. He thought it would be a good gesture and might actually encourage the other cell mates to speak up if there is another attack. So, she went in front of the board, put on her little doe eyed face, they fell for it, and now she's out."


"Did they not take into consideration how unhelpful she was when we were looking for Nick?" Warrick slammed his fist down on the table.


Grissom pinched the bridge of his nose. "What're the terms of her release?"


"Not much," Jim said without emotion. "She has to check in with her parole officer once a week for the first year. Then twice a month for the following two years."


"Three years probation?" Greg asked, frustrated. "If she had just told us where Nick was, we'd have found him in time!"


Brass nodded his head, understanding what the CSIs were feeling. At one point, he'd been a CSI and he'd worked with Nick. He knew full well the kind of decent man he was, and was still reeling from his loss, just like everyone else.


"The girl needs to be locked away for the rest of her miserable life," Catherine seethed. At times, she felt like some people could be redeemed. But Kelly Gordon was not one of them.


"She will be," Grissom nodded. "It's just a matter of time before she does something stupid. We'll catch her, too."


Catherine's beeper went off. She glanced down at the screen. "It's Hodges," she announced. "He identified the trace on the knife."


Warrick stood up and wordlessly followed Catherine out of the room, hoping that the case they working on would be enough to distract him.


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"You want me to what?" she blinked.


"Stay with us," Jillian smiled. When the shocked look didn't leave Sara's face, she smirked. "You know, here. You can stay in Nick's room. Hang around the ranch. We really want to get to know you."


"The kids will as well," Bill nodded at Jillian. He turned to Sara. "I'm sure Nick's sisters will love you."


"I think they will too," Jillian touched Sara's leg reassuringly.


She swallowed hard. "Uh, I don't know," she said pensively. After finding out for sure that she was pregnant and deciding that she had to tell Nick's parents in person about the baby, she hadn't even thought about his siblings. While she knew they existed, meeting them and being around them for an extended period of time never crossed her mind.


"Why?" Bill asked. He knew that she didn't really have a reason because they'd caught her off gaurd. But even if she had been expecting them to ask her, he couldn't think of a single reason why.


"I don't want to put you out. Besides, I need to figure out what I'm going to do."


"I thought you already knew?" Jillian asked, her eyebrows furrowed together.


"I mean about the rest of my life," she answered. "Vegas isn't necessarily the best place to raise a child. Especially in a single parent home. And I'm not sure when it'll feel like home again. If it ever will. If I'll be able to turn the corner and not see Nick at a crime scene, or Nick at the movies. There are memories everywhere. I think I might have to create a life for myself and this baby somewhere else. Or I'll just feel trapped."


"What were you thinking about doing?" Bill asked her.


"Checking out some other labs," she shrugged. "A few years back, I had submitted a request for a leave of absense because I wanted to check out the FBI."


"That's very ambitious," Jillian smiled. "I really respect a woman who knows what she wants. But as a career woman, I have to say -- it can be really difficult when you're doing that and raising a family. I had Bill, and older kids to help out with chores around the house and watching Nick and the younger kids. It'd just be you and the baby. Maybe a nanny. And I have no doubt that the FBI would be lucky to have you, but it'd take you away from the baby so much."


Sara sighed and fought the tears that threatened to fall. Only this time, the tears weren't all about Nick. It was about the fact that she was going to be a single parent, and Jillian was making perfect sense. And because of that, she was ready to fall apart.


"What about seeing if the Dallas department needs another CSI? We could put in a good word for you, and Nicky used to work with the Dallas PD, so I'm sure they'd love to have you," Jillian suggested.


Sara shook her head. "I need to do this on my own. I've always gotten where I needed to go on my own. It's important that I knock open those doors for myself."


Bill nodded his head. "I don't want to upset you, Sara, but if you were to get hired at another lab or the FBI, they would have to contact the lab in Vegas. They'd find out why you were put on LOA, and why. They might start asking all sorts of questions. What if they feel that Mr. Grissom's decision was justified?"


Sara looked down at her hands that were ballwed into tight fists. She released them, the pressure and tension immediately leaving her arms. She remained quiet.


"All of know that your Leave of Absense won't last forever," he continued. "But for the time being, he put you on it to deal with Nick's passing." He saw a few stray tears fall down her cheeks and she quickly looked back down into her lap. "So, until you can sort of move past that, I can't see you being able to find work anywhere else. At least, not in the same field."


Jillian glanced at Bill and gave him a sideways glare. She knew he meant well, though. She reached forward and took Sara's hand in hers. She stroked the smooth skin comfortingly. "You know what I think?" Sara glanced up and met her eyes. "I think you aren't ready to deal with everything yet. It all happened at once. Nicky's not here anymore, and now there is a baby. It's a lot to take in. And I think you're overwhelmed. You're throwing yourself into something that you can control - like work. But once that's all settled, you're going to have this ball of emotions to deal with. And you'll be farther along into your pregnancy, if not already had the baby. Things are going to get a lot harder, Sara. But that's OK. Everyone grieves in their own time. Lord knows Bill and I are grieving differently. I know that we are his parents, so because of that, we'll never truly feel whole again without him. But, I know that Nick would want you to be happy. And if you can't do that for yourself, he'd want you to try for your babys sake. And being able to move past it seems impossible now, but in time, it'll happen. And when that does, it won't mean that you didn't love him. It'll mean that he was a great chapter in your life. And even though it ended to soon, it won't be something that you'll ever regret. And you'll never be able to forget him. You'll wake up in the morning and look into your babys eyes and you'll see him. The love that you had. That you'll always have. It'll never go away Sara."


The floodgates opened and a river of tears fell. She sobbed and Jillian wrapped her arms around Sara. "I can't do this without him," she cried.


Jillian kissed the side of Sara's head and smoothed down her hair. She rocked the young woman as if she were a small child. "Yes you can. You're strong. Nicky might not be here physically, but he's in your heart. And he's in your baby. He'll never really be gone."


Sara nodded her head, swallowing against the lump in the back of her throat. She fought hard to take a deep breathe. When she'd calmed down a little, she pulled away from Jillian's embrace and rubbed her face with her hands. She groaned, forcing a laugh. "Hormones."


"So, will you stay?" Bill asked. "Even if only for a little while?"


Sara looked into both sets of eyes watching her closely. She started to choke up again. Two people that she barely knew were welcoming her into their lives and home all because of Nick. She had never know she generosity. How could she say no? "I'll stay for a while," she smiled.


Jillian beamed at Sara and embraced her quickly.


"I'll call the family," Bill said, standing up. He smiled at Sara and she froze.


"Wait!" she panicked, pulling out of the embrace.


"What's wrong?" he asked, turning to look back at her.


"It's just . . . " she picked at her nails, "I, uh, don't think I can meet everyone at once. It's a little overwhelming, you know," she said hesitantly.


Jillian smiled, "They don't bite."


Sara smiled at her. "I'm sure they don't. Nick always had good things to say about them. It's just . . . I didn't have a large family."


Jillian smiled at her. "Tell you what. We'll introduce them to you slowly. Lord knows that introducing their husbands to the family was a little overwhelming!" Jillian smiled and Bill chuckled.


"I guess we're just so used to it that we don't think about how big our family is," Bill said.


"How 'bout this," Jillian started, "three of our daughters are stay at home moms. What if I called them tonight and asked them to come over tomorrow morning? Our other three daughters who work could come over in the evening . . .?"


Sara smiled at them, grateful that they understood where she was coming from.


"That sounds good," she agreed.


Jillian smiled and stood up, walking up next to Bill. "Did you want me to bring you a drink?"


"No, that's OK," Sara smiled. "I think I'm just going to stay out here for a little while, though."


Jillian nodded her head and turned to walk inside, but stopped when she heard her husbands voice. "So did you ever check out the FBI?" Sara smiled, and shook her head no. "Why not?"


Her smile got a little bigger. Catherine had been the one to talk Grissom into sending her the plant at the Lab, so naturally, Cath assumed that's why she never left. But that wasn't it. "Nick." A thought suddenly crossed her mind. "Where's Sparky? I haven't seen him around."


"He was moping around here," Bill answered. "We decided to send him to Nicole's house. She lives on the other side of the ranch. She's got a couple of young kids, so we figured the attention wouldn't hurt him."


Sara smiled, "I'd like to see him, if it's OK."


Jillian smiled. "I think he'd like that. I'll have Nicole bring him by when she comes tomorrow."


"Thank you," Sara smiled. She watched as Jillian nodded her head and she and Bill finally made their way into the house.



*Flashback*


"Who is it?" Sara called out, standing behind her apartment door. One hand was firmly gripping the baseball bat, while the other hand braced against the door as she leaned up and peered out the peep hole.


"It's Nick," he called back, turning his head so that she could see it was him, although he was slightly distorted.


"Nick?" she questioned, unlatching the door and opening it up to him in the hallway.


"I thought we'd already established that," he smirked, then chuckled when she reached out and swatted at him.


"I mean, what're you doing here?" she asked.


He looked her up and down and smiled. "Cute."


She rolled her eyes, and propped one hand on her hip, raising an eyebrow. "Something tells me that you didn't come here to check out what I wear to bed."


"No," he smiled, "that's just a bonus." She rolled her eyes, but couldn't help but blush.


"Hair's cute, too," he touched her locks which had been thrown up high a top her head in a loose, messy bun. He stepped into the apartment, and walked in.


"Gee, Nick," she smirked, "why don't you come on in and make yourself at home?"


He tried not to smile. "Why thank you, Sara. Don't mind if I do."


She closed the door, locking the dead bolt before grabbing a white terry cloth robe from the back of the couch. Her linens had just come out of the dryer before she'd heard the knock at the door and hadn't had time to stash them.


"Now why would you want to cover up?" he drawled.


She pulled the rube tighter around herself, yanking on the belt. "Because," was her answer and she stuck out her tongue at him, giggling. Her pajamas weren't exactly revealing, but she didn't feel completely comfortable in them in front of Nick -- especially since she wasn't wearing her bra. A pair of loose fitting, cotton draw string pants that were light pink in color and had small white pin stripes. Her top was simply a white tank top.


"Next time," he walked into her kitchen, opening the fridge and scanning the contents, "we'll have a pajama party."


"Oh we will, will we?" she challenged him, taking a seat a stool at the breakfast bar.


"Oh yeah," he nodded his head. "We'll do what all girls do when they have slumber parties." He thought about his choice of words. "Not that I'm a girl."


Sara laughed. "Oh, you're definitely not a girl. Any woman can see that," she licked her lips subconciously, eyeing his form up and down appreciatively like he'd done to her when he walked in. "Out of curiousity, what exactly is it that you think girls do when they have aforementioned parties?"


He decided on two bottles of beer, setting them down on the counter and then shutting the door of the fridge. He twisted off the caps on both beers easily, then handed one to Sara. "Oh, you know," he answered nonchalantly, "gossiping, pigging out -"


"Which you already do," she smirked. "You and Warrick have quite the enlightening conversations, and I don't think I've seen you go one full day without eating one of those burritos."


He ignored her. "And of course, having pillow fights in our underwear."


She couldn't help but laugh. But she stopped laughing when she noticed his eyes land on a piece of paper sitting on the counter, underneath a stack of Italian take out menu's. She hadn't been hiding it, but the large, black print that was popping off the corner of the page was hard to miss. FBI. She heard him sigh.


"So, it's true?" he asked, picking up the paper and turning it around so that she could see what he was looking at. When she averted her eyes, he had his answer. "Sara, you can't go."


"Why?" she snapped. "Because the lab needs me?"


Nick looked shocked at first, by her sudden outburst, but it was replaced with a knowing look. "That's what Grissom said, huh?"


"Yep," she sighed deeply. "Would it kill the man to say what he means, on a personal level, just once?"


Nick put the paper down and rubbed a hand through his dark hair. "The lab does need you, Sara. But more than that, the rest of the team needs you. You're irreplaceable. And on a more selfish note, you're one of my best friends. Sure Warrick is a good friend and all, but sometimes, I just need to talk to you. Sometimes you know what to say, or not to say. What to do or not to do . . . what will I do if you're not around?"


"I just don't know if I made the right decision by coming here," she admitted. "I turned my life upside down for a chance to work with Grissom, and all I've gotten are mixed messages."


He sighed heavily. "I'm not going to tell you that your reasons for coming here were wrong. Maybe they were, maybe they weren't. But you're here now. And even though Gris is a pain in the ass sometimes, he cares about you."


She rolled her eyes. A move that did not go unnoticed.


"Hey," he demanded her to look in his eyes. "We all care about you, Sara. If you leave now, you'll be quitting because it got a little tough. And you are not a quitter." She remained silent. "Sometimes we make decisions for the wrong reasons. Maybe you're moving here for Grissom was wrong. But if you look hard enough, you might just find the right reason to stay."


She offered him a soft smile, and she leaned in to give him a soft kiss on the cheek. She knew that she didn't need to thank him verbally. The kiss on his cheek and the smile she offered him were more than enough.


The next thing she knew, he'd settled himself beside her on the couch, and casually drapped an arm across her shoulders, pulling her close to him in a reclining position against his shoulder. His other hand settled his beer on the coaster beside him on the side table and then grabbed the remote, flipping on the TV and looking for something decent to watch.


In that moment, Sara realized that even if she had come to Vegas for Grissom, she had a lot more reasons to stick around. And maybe, just maybe, the biggest one of all was sitting beside her.


*end flashback*


Sara could help but smile at the memory.



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"Hey, Kelly. Have a seat," Sylvia smiled at the young woman.


"Thanks for seeing me," she answered. "I know you said we didn't have to do this in person . . . ."


"No," Sylvia waved it off, "I'm really glad you came. Kelly, your father loved you very much."


Her eyes became cloudy and dark. "A little too much. I just wanted to talk about his Estate. Is what he did going to effect it?"


"Well, it's kind of complicated . . . ."



TBC . . . .
 
Chapter 9:

She looked at herself in the mirror, noticing the bags under her eyes. Although she'd woken up only a few hours ago, she hadn't slept much the night before. She kept thinking about meeting his family. She was a nervous wreck and couldn't stop thinking about it. So, rather than just close her eyes and count sheep, she turned on his CD and listened to the songs his sweet voice sung to her. It was calming in a way, but she had silently let the tears fall.

She turned to look at her profile in the mirror and noticed that her abdomin had a slight swell. No one else would've noticed, but she knew. A smile tugged on her lips as she lifted up her shirt, exposing her skin. Her fingers skimmed her stomach, caressing her flesh. She looked at a picture of Nick that was sitting on the dresser -- it was a picture that his mother had put there especially for Sara. It was his official Dallas PD photo. Though it was an older picture, his smile beemed back at her. "It's our baby," she said, tears pooling again in her eyes as her free hand reached out and touched the contours of his face in the photo. "I wish you were here," she let her hand drop from her stomach as she spoke to the photo, picking up the frame and wandering over to the neatly made bed. "I miss you so much, Nick."

It was then that something really odd happened. If Sara hadn't been sitting there when it happened, if someone had said that something like this had happened to them, she wouldn't have believed it. But it was happening. The CD player had suddenly turned on and started playing Nick's CD -- only, it wasn't playing the first song on the CD. It was playing one in the middle. Yet another Garth Brooks song . . .

When the rain is blowing in your face

And the whole world is on your case

I would offer you a warm embrace

To make you feel my love

When the evening shadows and the stars appear

And there is no one to dry your tears

I could hold you for a million years

To make you feel my love

I know you haven't made your mind up yet

But I would never do you wrong

I've known it from the moment that we met

There's no doubt in my mind where you belong

I'd go hungry, I'd go black and blue

I'd go crawling down the avenue

There ain't nothing that I wouldn't do

To make you feel my love

The storms are raging on the rollin' sea

Down the highway of regret

The winds of change are blowing wild and free

But you ain't seen nothing like me yet

There ain't nothing that I wouldn't do

Go to the ends of the earth for you

Make you happy, make your dreams come true

To make you feel my love

There was a quiet knock at the door. "Sara?"

"Yes?" she called, standing up from the bed, and walking back to the dresser, Nick's picture in her hand. She used the back of her hand to wipe the tears away from her eyes.

Jillian poked her head inside the room and smiled softly. "Nicole is coming up the driveway. She came a little early with her kids and Sparky."

Sara's eyes shone brightly and Jillian recognized her smile as one that finally reached her eyes.

"Thanks," she answered. "I'll be down in just a sec."

She smiled at Sara. "OK."

Once the door had firmly clicked back in place, she turned around and stared at the CD player, which had now turned itself off. She chuckled slightly, half wondering if she'd just imagined that happening, but knowing she didn't.

She glanced around the room, feeling as though Nick's spirit were with her. Her hand touched the door knob and she turned it gently. "I love you," she whispered into his bedroom. Upon hearing the front door open, she sighed a little, smiling.

She quietly closed the door behind her and walked silently down the hallway, peering over the railing and into the foyer on the first floor of the home. She could see Nicole with her children, taking off their shoes. She could see Sparky wandering into the house pensively, and laying down beside the closet. She smiled a little at the dog, who hadn't seen her yet. Part of her was sad that Sparky was sad -- but the other part of her was jumping inside with anticipation.

Nicole could feel someones eyes on her and looked up. She saw Sara standing there and smiled slightly. "Hello."

"Hi," Sara greeted, a little embarrassed that she'd been caught. She hadn't meant to not say anything, but she was caught up in the dog. God, how she'd missed that dog. It was just one more link to Nick that had suddenly been taken from her.

Sparky's ears perked up at the sound of her voice and he looked up at Sara, his eyes immediately shining He leapt up from his place by the closet, and ran quickly up the stairs, wagging his tail furiously, making almost a doggie singing noise in greeting. He barked happily once he was at the top of the stairs and Sara laughed happily as she scratched him behind his ears. The dog sighed in contentment as he allowed Sara to scratch him, he licking her wrists.

"I've missed you too, Buddy," Sara smiled, her eyes misting over.

Jillian and Nicole stood there silently, smiling at the life that Sparky seemed to suddenly be energized with.

Nicole's two kids looked on in awe.

"How'd you do that?" the little boy asked as Sara stood up and started to walk down the stairs, Sparky closely following behind. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, he walked up to them, patting the dogs soft fur.

"I've known Sparky since he was a little puppy," Sara answered, smiling down at the little boy, who shared the same brown eyes as Nick. She couldn't help but wonder if she had a son, would he have Nick's eyes? "We go way back, don't we buddy?" she sratched his ears again, and he leaned his head into her touch, resting his head against her leg. He barked in answer.

The kids giggled.

"I'm Nicole," the blond woman smiled, holding her hand out for Sara.

Sara extended her own hand and when they shook hands, she immediately relaxed. "Sara. It's nice to meet you."

"Like wise," she looked down at her children who were playing with a now happy Sparky. "This is my son Noah. He's three. And this little Angel," she picked up her daughter quickly, her innocent giggles becoming a loud shriek as her mother picked her up suddenly, "is Elizabeth. She's a year and a half."

Sara smiled down at the little girl who had her mothers blond hair.

"Hi," the little girl giggled as her mother tickled her stomach.

"Hi," Sara smiled back. "That's a very pretty name, Elizabeth."

"Meh," she shrugged. "It's otay."

Nicole rolled her eyes and tried to hide her smirk and Jillian chuckled. Sara stood there shocked, not knowing what to say.

"Sorry," Nicole apologized. "That would be Jason's influence. He's the oldest. The little rat is at swimming practice. He's seven."

Sara laughed a little.

"Owder brodder is da best," her eyes shone brightly at Sara as her mother set her down on her feet.

"I had an older brother too," she smiled.

The little girl launched herself at Sara's leg and clung to her for a second before letting go and running off to play with Sparky and Noah

"So what brings you to Texas?" Nicole asked as she and Jillian led the way to the kitchen. Sara followed behind them and as Sparky saw her retreating from the room, he stood up and followed, the kids following him.

Sara glanced at Jillian who subtley shook her head, telling Sara that she hadn't told Nick's sisters.

"Why don't we wait for Maddy and Gabby?" Jillian suggested, pulling out some snacks from the cupboard for her grandkids.

Nicole glanced between the two and nodded her head. "Alright."

The three sat at the kitchen table and talked for a while until Maddy and Gabby arrived with their kids.

Maddy and her husband Lucas had three kids. Daniel, eight; Natalie, five; and Zachary, four.

Gabby and her husband William, had three kids as well. David, six; and twin, fraternal daughters, Rosalind and Isabel, three.

Around lunch time, the five women and the kids went outside.

"I can't wait until Zack goes to school," Maddy said. "A couple more months and I'll have the mornings too myself!"

Everyone laughed.

Nicole and Gabby agreed that that would be a dream come true when their little rug rats were all in Elementary school and they could have just a few hours in the morning to themselves, then the following year, an entire school day -- plus the travel time to and from school on the bus.

Being that summer vacation had just started, all the kids were excited at not needing to attend school for a few months.

Sara looked down at one of the twins who was tugging on her shirt gently to get her attention.

"Isabel!" Gabby chastised. "That is not nice."

"Sowwy," she looked down at the ground, upset that her mother was disappointed in her.

"It's OK," Sara smiled. "What would like, sweetie?" The little girl lifted her arms up to Sara in a silent request to be picked up. "Better?"

The little girl nodded and batted her blue eyes at Sara. "I wike wou."

"Thank you," Sara smiled down at the little girl. "I like you too."

Embarrassed, she shoved a thumb into her mouth.

"Izzy!" her mother scolded for a second time, and the little girl gropped her thumb from her mouth.

"Sowwy," she said again. But her eyes lit up with Rosalind ran towards them, stopping short at running straight into Sara's legs.

"Come pway!" she said to her sister, grabbing Izzy's hand. Sara helped her down off her lap and the two ran off towards the sand box and trampoline.

"So . . . " Nicole hedged, glancing at her sisters then to her mother and finally on Sara. "What brings you to Texas?"

Jillian watched Sara for a moment, and smiled at her encouragingly.

"Sorry," Nicole appologized. "I don't mean to be blunt."

Sara smirked. "No, that's alright. I'm apparently pretty blunt too. At least, most of the time."

Nicole smirked. "No wonder we get along so well. I seem to irritate everyone when I just come out and ask something. Everyone tells me to use a little tact."

Sara laughed. "Funny, I've been told that a few times myself."

"I'm curious too," Maddy said and Gabby nodded her head.

"Mom told us that Nicky's girlfriend was here," Gabby said, "and that she wanted us to meet you. I'd say it's pretty safe to say that we were all pretty shocked. None of us knew that Nicky had a girlfriend."

Sara smiled. "We didn't tell anyone. At least, I didn't. But Nick told your Dad."

"What?" Maddy questioned, glancing at her mother. She held up her hands.

"I didn't know either," Jillian said.

"It's a long story, but I came here because I know that Nick would've wanted me too. We, uh, dated for a little less than a year," Sara started. "And I think things were getting pretty serious. You're brother was the best thing that ever happened to me. I loved him with everything that I have. With everything that I am. I still do. I'll never stop."

The three girls smiled at her. They could see it in her eyes. If Nicky were still there, they'd tell him that she was it. 'The One.'

"Uh, Nick didn't know. I didn't know, actually. Not until about a week ago, anyway. I'm pregnant."

The three girls smiles seemed to disappear for a moment before they all returned brightly and they rushed forward and enveloped Sara in a big, group hug, shocking her.

Jillian stood back and watched the scene unfolding, taking a picture with the digital camera that was sitting beside her. With having young grandchildren around, she'd gotten used to keeping a camera near by for moments that she'd like to remember. And this was definitely one of them.

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"Hey," Brass greeted as he walked into the break room. He and Grissom had just gotten finished interrogating a suspect and he was in desperate need of coffee.

Warrick nodded his head, glancing down at his laptop.

"Big case?" Jim asked.

Warrick shook his head. "No. Gris keeps telling us to be patient, ya know?" The irritation was evident in the mans voice. "But I have this nagging feeling . . ."

"About Kelly Gordon?" he asked, an eye brow raised.

"Yeah," he sighed, pushing back his chair and getting a refill of his own coffee.

"Found anything probative?"

"Depends," he shrugged. "It's probably nothing though."

"What is it?"

"I did some digging that I really shouldn't have," he said, looking at Brass to make sure he understood. "What I tell you, is strictly off the record and between friends, alright?"

Brass knew that this was Warrick's way of telling him that the digging he'd done wasn't exactly . . . legal. He nodded in confirmation, reaching for his badge and placing it on the table top. "No cops are here," he answered.

Warrick smirked. "So, Kelly Gordon was the Trustee of her Fathers Estate prior to her conviction. After she was sent to the prison, he changed his Will, making Sylvia Mullins his trustee."

"And . . . ?"

"Prior to his death, every cent of his money was accounted for," Warrick sat back down. "Money is leaving his accounts."

"That's to be expected," Brass answered. "House taxes, electric bills . . . just because a person dies doesn't mean that they no longer have to pay certain fees."

"I know that," Warrick answered, turning his laptop around and pushing it towards Brass. "But can you explain why there is close to three hundred thousand dollars suddenly unaccounted for?"

"Who has access?"

"Just Ms. Mullins," he answered.

"Fraud, I suppose," Brass said. "But this isn't information that we are supposed to have."

"And I got this information on the down low," Warrick sighed. "And without probable cause, there is no way of legally obtaining it."

"Our hands are tied until someone comes to the cops to report anything."

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The entire Stokes clan had been more than thrilled with the news of the impending arrival and had opened their arms, with no questions asked, to Sara. They were welcoming her into their family readily. And while she couldn't have been happier, it was bitter sweet without Nick sitting beside her whispering, "I told you they'd love you" in her ear.

She'd met Nicole, Maddy and Gabby's husbands - Jacob, Lucas, and William, as well as the older kids that she hadn't met during the day. And then met the rest of Nick's siblings, their spouses and their children.

Rebecca was married to Mark, and they have four kids. Ten year old Faith, Victoria, nine, and another set of twins, a girl and boy, Penelope and Christopher, eight.

Charlotte was Nick's oldest sister, and her husband was Mark. They also had three kids. Hannah, fourteen, Adam, thirteen and Joesph, twelve.

Tom, Nick's only brother, and his wife Ella, also had three kids. Jeffrey, nineteen, Scott, fifteen, and Adrienne, fourteen.

Sara watched them all file out of the house and towards their cars with a smile on her face.

"So, did we overwhelm you?" Bill asked as he walked up to where she was standing, leaning up against the front door.

She smiled, "Yeah. A little. But it's a good overwhelmed, you know?"

Bill smiled.

"I watched you all tonight," she said softly. "How much you love each other. I saw the little disagreements and the bickering, but if push comes to shove, I can see that you'd all be there for each other."

"You too," he quickly including, receiving a smile. "You're family now, Sara."

She didn't quite know what to say. "I didn't grow up with a close family. Actually, at times I wondered if I'd ever know what it was, never mind experience it. When I first moved to Vegas, Nick would tell me about his big, crazy family. And I always wondered if he was exaggerating about how wonderful you all are. Tonight, I found out that he was telling the truth."

Bill smiled back at her. "Well, we are a big, crazy family."

Jillian made her way back up to the house after seeing the last of her children off. Each of her six remaining children had built homes on the ranch, which sprawled an impressive four thousand acres of lush, green land. "Would you like another piece of Strawberry pie, Sara?"

"Sounds like heaven," she smiled, "but I don't think I can eat any more."

"I'll make sure to save some for you for tomorrow," she smiled.

"Thanks," she breathed deeply, enjoying the cooler breeze of the evening air. It had been a humid day. Definitely not the type of heat she was used to in Vegas. It had been a long, and draining day. "I think I'm going to turn in."

"Alright," Bill smiled. He leaned over and placed a kiss on her cheek. "Good night."

"Good night," she smiled as he retreated into his study at the end of the hall.

"You feeling alright?" Jillian asked her, suddenly noticing that she was a little pale.

"Fine," she assured her. "I'm just a little tired."

"It's understandable," she said, guiding Sara towards the base of the stairs. "I'm going to clean up in the kitchen. Probably head off to bed shortly there after." She leaned in and hugged Sara. "Sleep well, dear."

"You too," Sara returned the hug.

The two women smiled at each other briefly before Jillian turned towards the kitchen to clean up what hadn't been taken care of, and Sara turned to head upstairs.

"Whoa boy," Sara whispered, stopping dead in her tracks about three quarters of the way up the stairs, one hand clutching the railing, the other coming up to her head which felt like it was spinning around as if it were the Tilt-A-Whirl ride.

As she moved to take another step, she felt her body flush with heat, and an overwhelming wave of nausea wash over her.

She lost her balance, and tumbled down the stairs with a sickening thud.

"Oh my!" Jillian shrieked, running out of the kitchen as she saw Sara's body come to a rest at the bottom of the stairs. "BILL!" she yelled.

Racing over to Sara, she whispered to the woman who was clutching her stomach, whimpering in pain. "Just hold still."

When Bill emerged from his Study, he saw Sara on the ground and grabbed the cordless, calling for an ambulance. "They'll be here soon," he told them.

"Oh, God," Sara whimpered in pain. She tried not to move, but with every cramp, her body jerked in spasm.

"Try and hold still," Jillian said, leaning over the woman and gently cupping her face in her hands. They held eye contact and Sara started to cry.

"What happened?" Bill asked.

Jillian looked her husband in the eye. "She fell down the stairs," Jillian answered. "I heard it, but I only saw as she landed down here."

Sara's arm went to her stomach as she pressed her palm flat against her skin, "hold on Baby. Please, hold on."

The husband and wife looked at each other, terrified that the woman before them was going miscarrying their sons child.

"I can't loose you too," she cried. "Please . . . ."

TBC . . . .
 
Uhoh that's not good. And I still wonder what exactly will come of the Kelly Gordon part. More soon!
 
Chapter 10:

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Sara lay in the hospital bed, her eyes wide open in fear. She couldn't speak. She couldn't look at either of Nick's parents, who were holding vigil on either side of her. All she could do was look straight ahead at the stark white walls which were not comforting in the least.

"I'm sure everything is fine," Jillian said quietly as she reached up and tucked a piece of Sara's hair behind her ear. "They just need to run a few tests, and then we'll all get out of here. You and the baby will be as good as new."

Sara's jaw was rigid as she fought the tears, desperate to keep them back. The only thing she was trying to concentrate on was grinding her teeth.

She wanted - no, she needed - to block everything else out. The EMTs had told her that she was spotting, and that it was best for her and the baby if she tried to relax. Much easier said than done.

Once they'd arrived at the hospital, her nerves were frayed and she was barely holding it together. She tried to take the advice of the EMT and relax, but what was left of her world was dangerously close to being ripped away from her. A fact that she was reminded of every time she experienced a cramp.

Though they were become farther apart, and not as intense, she couldn't help but think the worst.

Bill watched on silence, his hand absently grasping at Sara's. He really was scared that his grandchild would not be given a chance, and that the elation he and the rest of his family felt that a part of Nick would live on would be ripped away from them. And that there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. He looked into Sara's eyes, and saw that she was fragile, wondering if she was going to break. He could see the fear and terror behind her orbs and wondered how she'd be able to cope with the devasting loss of her child if it came to that.

In the private room, the three just waited. The only noises beind made were the shallow breathes of all the occupants and the ticking of the clock mounted on the wall. It was normally a noise that was quiet, but in the eerily quiet room, it was as loud as a ticking bomb. And just served as a reminder that the were still waiting. And though they hadn't been waiting long, it seemed like forever.

"Can one of you go see what's taking so long?" Sara asked timidly.

Bill nodded his head and silently rose from the stool beside the bed. He dropped Sara's hand and placed a kiss on her forehead trying to give her some fatherly love, and reassure her that every thing would be fine.

"Thank you," she managed weakly, her voice cracking with emotion. She looked away.

Bill glanced at his wife, heaving a silent sigh as he turned and walked out the door to find out what was taking so long . . .

"You know, when I was pregnant with Becky," Jillian started, "I fell in the garden. But everything was fine."

She wiped furiously at the tears betraying her as they slipped down her cheek. "Did you cramp? Or bleed?" she asked.

Jillian shook her head no. "But I did cramp when I was pregnant with Nicole. And I did have some spotting through out my pregnancy with Nicky." She wiped away a tear from Sara's cheek. "And they all turned out just fine."

"But I fell down a flight of stairs," she looked down at her hands that were now resting on her stomach where her child was . . . "and I'm cramping and bleeding because of it." She bite her lip, but it quivered and she choked out, "It's my fault this is happening."

Jillian stood up from her chair and sat on the edge of the bed, removing Sara's hands that were now covering her face. She was too weak and filled with emotions to struggle against Jillian. The older woman cupped her chin, making Sara meet her eyes. "Don't say that. It's not true. What happened was an accident Sara. You can't blame yourself for this."

"How can you even look at me?" she asked, the tears continuing to build and pour down her face faster. She tried to calm herself, but her breathing became more ragged with each passing moment. "Nick is gone and his baby might be now too."

"You can't think like that," she told Sara gently.

"Nick would've kept the baby safe," she said as if she didn't hear Jillian's words. "It's something I obviously can't do myself. And now . . . " she couldn't finish her sentence. "I've disappointed him." She burried her face in her hands and let the emotions pour out of her. "God, I never wanted to disappoint him."

"You haven't," Jillian's voice had a stern, motherly quality to it. "Sara, you fell. It was an accident. It was bad timing that you were on the stairs, but even Nick couldn't have prevented it. He wouldn't blame you, nor would he want you to get worked up over it. The baby could be completely fine."

Sara looked at Jillian for a moment, completely silent, except for the sounds of her irratic breathing. Slowly, she nodded her head. "Deep down, I know that," she acknowledged, "but . . ."

"No buts," she shook her head. "Think positively. Block out all the negative energy."

Sara bit her lip, and forced a smile. But the tears started up again. "I can't loose this baby, Jillian. I just can't."

Jillian felt the tears in her own eyes finally spill down her cheeks. "I know, Sweetie," she leaned over, pulling the woman into a warm embrace.

The two fell into silence once again. But it was short lived as Bill walked through the door, holding it open for a nurse and a doctor He smiled at the two women.

"Ready?" he asked them. Jillian's eyes fell on Sara.

She sighed, putting her hand against her abdomen. She took a deep breath. "I don't know if I'm ever going to be ready," she said quietly, her thumb running over the paper gown that covered her flesh. "But I have to be."

She knew that the sooner she knew for sure, the better it'd be. The waiting and wondering was not helping her level of stress. But on the other hand, if it were bad news, the not knowing about it would give her a few more minutes of feeling like she was still connected to Nick. If the baby was gone, he would be too . . .

The doctor introduced herself as Doctor Brenner, and the nurse simply said her name was Amy.

When the Amy made a move to help Sara with rolling down the thin blanket, and roll up the paper gown to expose her flesh, Bill adverted his eyes. Clearing his throat, he announced, "I'll be just outside."

Sara's eyes shot up and she reached her hand out for him, "stay. Please." She saw the questioning look in his eyes, and she smiled as best she could. "I want you to stay."

Jillian nodded at her husband, telling him that he was to stay put. Though she loved that he was still a southern gentleman, ready to leave the room to make Sara more comfortable, they needed all the positive energy they could get. And Sara needed all the morale support she could get.

"All right," he nodded his head curtly and stepped up towards the head of the bed, keeping a firm grasp on the hand that she offered him. Jillian sat back down in the chair, firmly graping Sara's other hand. Both Bill and Jillian's free hands were resting above Sara's head, which was resting a pillow, on the mattress, clinging to one another for strength.

The nurse smiled sympathetically at Sara. "This is conducting gel," she explained, holding up the bottle for Sara to see. "It might feel a little cold and wet, OK?"

Sara nodded her head, but still flinched when the gel made contact with her skin.

Her heart was in her throat as the doctor snapped on his white gloves and placed the transducer on her abdomen. He held the wand still for a moment before turning on the monitor, which was facing away from them, and slowly moving the wand around.

The room was silent again and Sara could hear her heart beating in her ears . . . . .

She saw the doctor speaking softly the nurse, a concerned look etched across her face . . .

"What's wrong?" she immediately asked, her chin quivering. She fought against the tears as hard as she could, determined that she wouldn't fall apart until after she knew what was going on. It was only a second later that she realized something. "Why can't I hear my babys heartbeat?"

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Kelly Gordon sat on the front steps of Sylvia Mullin's home, looking towards the new subdivision of homes that was slowly encrouching on the house.

Turning off the engine of her car, Sylvia opened the drivers side door and onto her driveway. "Kelly," she greeted, not bothering to try and mask her surprise. "What're you doing here?"

"Didn't expect to see me, huh?" Kelly asked, her jaw set.

"You were less than thrilled with me the last time we spoke," she said, recalling when Kelly had visited her at her office.

"Well, would you have been happy if you were me?" She spat back icily.

Sylvia closed her eyes, wanting nothing more than to turn the clocks back a few months and make everything just disappear. Walter, although a good friend, had put her in a very difficult position, and now his daughter was not making her life any easier. "I suppose not," she finally answered, closing the door of her car. She popped open the trunk. "Can we just skip the pleasantries? I'm tired, and I just want to put away my groceries, and go to sleep."

"Can I come in?" Kelly asked her, eyeing her suspiciously

Sylvia quickly shook her head no. "I don't think so. Maybe some other time."

"Right," Kelly nodded her head and offered a sarcastic smile. Like that would ever happen.

Sylvia grabbed a couple of paper bags out of the trunk and hoisted them up on her hips, skillfully closing the trunk.

"That's a lot of food for one person, isn't it?" Kelly observed. Then laughed a little bit. "But then again, I'm not entirely sure why a single woman would buy a house this big, either."

"Look, if you came here -"

"Ooh, hit a nerve did I?" Kelly sneered. "Whatever. I don't really give damn why you bought this house -- oh, whoops. Sorry. Why my Dad bought you this house . . ." She eyed the woman up and down, sizing her up. "Its not like you were his type. But I guess a lot can change in three years, huh?"

"Guess so," Sylvia bit her tongue as she brushed past Kelly towards her front door. As much as she wanted to tell the young woman to take a long walk off a short pier, she knew that Kelly was just reacting to surprising news that had thrown her for a loop.

"I need money," she spit out.

"Oh really?" Sylvia asked, turning to face her. "And why does that involve me?"

"Because you are the Trustee of my Dad's Estate. You know he'd take care of me if he were still here."

"Yeah, well he's not, now is he?" Sylvia's eyes glazed over with hatred. "He'd still be here if it weren't for you."

"I didn't do anything!" Kelly yelled.

"Really? Then why were the CSIs able to link you to the murder?"

Kelly rotated her neck, trying to not get worked up over such a stupid comment. "I wasn't apart of it. I dropped the damn cup when I was running. I didn't want to get involved."

"Well, the jury thought otherwise. They saw the kind of person you really are. Too bad the parole board couldn't."

"So, I guess you're not going to give me any money, huh?"

"No, but I am going to give you some advice," Sylvia spat back. "It's the least I can do. After all, you're Dad would want you to be taken care of . . . so, do it. Take care of yourself. Be a woman and get a job."

"Don't do something you'll regret," Kelly warned, her eyes becoming dark.

"Too late," and with that, she walked inside her house and closed the door, locking it behind her.

"BITCH!" Kelly screamed towards the house before angrily making her way to her beat up car that she'd bought for only a couple hundred dollars . . . Once inside, she banged her hand against the wheel. "How could you've been so stupid, Dad?" she asked aloud. "Now she thinks she has all the power . . . Us Gordon's are the ones with the power, isn't that right?" She looked at the crumpled up photo that sat on her dash board of her father. She smiled slightly as her fingers traced his face. An almost serene look passed over her. "We'll just have to show her whose boss, won't we?"

Knowing that the perfect plan would take some time to map out, she sped off down the street, thinking of ways to make Sylvia Mullin's pay for ruining her life . . .

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Greg watched the scene unfolding from across the street, in the passenger side of Warrick's Denali. "Well . . . this is . . . interesting."

"Intense," Warrick nodded, his eyebrows creasing together as he thought about what it could all mean.

After telling Brass about this findings, he felt like he needed to discuss things with. Nick would've been his first choice, but since he was unavailable, it was Greg. Grissom wouldn't be impressed that he used channels that weren't legal, and he just couldn't drag Catherine into it. Not when she had Lindsay to worry about. First of all though, he needed to figure out what exactly was going on. And what, if anything, it had to do with loosing Nick.

So, after telling Greg about the information he'd obtained, the two had decided that they would follow Kelly around to see if she'd slip up and they might find out something useful. They just happened to luck out that on their first stake-out, she'd lead them to Sylvia's home

"Those two certainly don't look like they were ever best friends," Greg said. "Do you think Kelly's showing up here has anything to do with the missing money?"

Warrick shook his head. He had to strain to hear it, but he'd heard Kelly asking for money from the Estate. "Naw. If she was wanting money, and Sylvia didn't want to give it to her, she could've held the missing three hundred grand over her head. Blackmail her . . ."

"But she didn't." Greg looked around. The new housing developements and shook his head. "Something just doesn't feel right."

Warrick sighed in relief. "You feel it too?"

He nodded his head and motioned all around them. "Does Sylvia Mullin's strike you as the type of woman who'd want to live here?" The new multi-million dollar home subdivision.

Warrick nodded his head. "She does seem like she'd want to live in an area with wealthy people," he pointed out.

"But this is about as far away from the glitz and glamor of Vegas as you can get," Greg said. "She seems like the type of woman who'd want to be in the middle of all the action. Not secluded away from it."

Warrick nodded his head, agreeing with what Greg was saying. "She's on the move," he said, turning over the Denali's engine and slowly, unnoticed by Kelly, pulled out onto the roadway, following her a safe distance behind . . .

Neither of the CSIs realized how close they were to the truth, and that they were just getting farther, and farther away . . . .

TBC . . . .
 
Chapter 11:

"What's going on?" Warrick asked as he and Greg entered Grissom's office. They'd been following Kelly when both their pagers went off, requesting them to get back to Grissom's office immediately. Since it'd been a slow night, the two had been allowed to follow a "possible lead" on a cold case. Luckily for them, Grissom hadn't questioned them any farther than that. If he'd known what they were doing, he probably wouldn't have allowed it as Kelly could claim 'police harassment' . . .

"Did we get a lead on another cold case, or something?" Greg asked, closing the door behind them.

Grissom looked up at the two CSIs, not knowing what to say. Or rather, how to say it.

"What's going on?" Greg asked, feeling the tension.

Catherine smiled slightly at Grissom, understanding that he was having difficulty finding the words. She turned to face her friends. "We know where Sara is."

"Where is she?" Warrick asked quickly. "Is she OK? Did she call?"

"She's in Dallas," Catherine stated.

"What's she doing there?" Greg asked.

"Don't really know," Grissom stated. "Maybe she's visiting Nick's family."

"They didn't seem that close when Nick's parents were here when . . . you know," Warrick said.

"We didn't know about Nick and Sara's relationship," Catherine said. "Maybe they didn't tell his parents, either. If they had known, I think the three of them would've been pretty dependent on each other."

"So, what?" Greg asked, confused. "She went for a visit?"

Catherine shrugged her shoulders.

"All we know is that she's there," Grissom said. "And no, she didn't call. We got lucky since we had put the APB out on her."

"What are you not telling us?" Warrick asked firmly, just needing to know what exactly was going on.

"There was an accident," Catherine said calmly, trying to control her emotions. "She's been admitted to one of the area hospitals. We don't know what kind of accident it was, or how bad it is."

Greg leaned forward and grabbed Grissom's phone, intent on getting information on his friend.

"They won't give you any information, Greg," Grissom reminded him. "You're not family."

"We tried," Catherine told them.

"I talked to the Swing Shift supervisor," Grissom said. "They're covering for us for the rest of tonight. We're flying to Dallas."

"Go get packed," Catherine told them. "My father is lending us his plane. We leave in thirty minutes."

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"This is killing me," Sara sniffled. "I can't stand this!"

"I know, honey," Jillian said soothingly, brushing a piece of Sara's unruly curls behind her ear.

Bill sighed, unsure of what to do or say.

After Sara had asked why she couldn't hear her babys heart beating, Doctor Brenner had looked up and given a half smile. She'd explained that the Ultra Sound machine was having a bit of a glitch as the picture was blurry. She couldn't say for sure that this was why they were unable to hear the heart beat, but it was a real possibility that if the machines picture was blurry, that the sound card had been damaged . . . she'd left the room immediately in search of another machine.

Sara was exhausted. The day had been long and emotional, and she really had been looking forward to crawling into bed and passing out . . . but after falling down the stairs, she knew it'd be an even longer night.

"Are you still cramping?" Jillian asked her quietly.

She shook her head no. "Thank God," she added softly, her hand touching her stomach again. She smiled slightly, realizing that it was already becoming quite the habit.

"When was the last one?"

"Hmm," she tried to remember the time on the clock when the last one hit . . . "twenty minutes. Maybe a half hour."

"That's a good sign," she smiled at the younger woman.

Sara smiled, though it was aprehensive. "I hope so."

A couple of minutes later, the nurse and doctor re-entered the room, smiling apologetically for the delay.

Quickly the machine was set up again, and once again, Sara's abdomen was smothered in the conducting gel. The wand was placed against the small, almost unnoticable bump on her stomach. The doctor flipped on the screen and a small smile slowly played on her lips. She turned the monitor around for Sara to see and pointed out the small image on the screen. "This is your baby."

Sara's eyes watered with tears as she looked at her growing child. Bill and Jillian smiled at the image.

"I still don't hear it's heart beat," she said quietly, her happiness quickly waning. She needed reassurance.

"It's right here," Amy, the nurse pointed out, showing a visible, and strong beat. "See it?"

A happy tear fell down her face and Bill wiped it away with his thumb, smiling at her.

"Here," the doctor said, trying to not get emotional at the display infront of her, turning up the sound on the machine.

Sara's eye lit up in amazement. "It's so fast," she said. "Is that normal?"

Amy smiled at Sara, nodding her head. "By the looks and sounds of it, your baby is completely healthy."

Sara let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding, relief flooding over her body.

"That's great news," Jillian smiled.

"Would you like a picture of your baby?" Amy asked Sara. Sara beamed back at her, nodding her head yes, unable to form any words. Her happiness was overwhelming her and she just couldn't find her voice.

Bill looked at the doctor. "When will she be released?"

Doctor Brenner smiled at the expectant Grandparents, then at Sara. "I want to keep you here over night, just to monitor you. It's a precaution we take with all women who fall early in their pregnancy. It's routine, and most of the time, it's uneventful." She and Amy started packing up the Ultra Sound equiptment. "As for the immediate future, when we do release you, I want you on bedrest for at least a week. You can get up to use the washroom. It's OK to take a warm, not hot, bath, or a quick, warm shower. But nothing more, OK?"

Sara couldn't wipe the smile off her face, but she was finally able to speak. "Yeah, that's fine. I'll do whatever I have to for this baby," she said. Yesterday, if she'd been told she needed bedrest, she would've been pissed. It would've felt like the end of the world. But right now, it felt like she was getting a new lease on life.

"Good," Doctor Brenner smiled. "We'll schedule you for an appointment in about a week to see how everything is going. If it all looks good, we'll take you off bedrest, OK?"

"Thank you," Sara smiled.

"I didn't do anything," the doctor smiled. "Just relax, and get some sleep OK?"

Sara nodded her head, and yawned a little bit, sinking down into the less than comfortable mattress that the hospital passed off as a bed.

Once the Doctor and nurse slipped through the door and into the hallway, Sara spoke softly. "Thanks for being here with me. I think I would've lost my mind if you hadn't been."

Jillian smiled at her. "You don't have to thank us," she said. "There is no where else we would've been."

"Do you want something to eat or drink before you get some rest?"

Sara shook her head, smiling up at Bill. "No, but thank you." She rested her head back against the pillows which, unlike the bed, were surprisingly nice.

"See you in the morning," Jillian pat her arm as she leaned back in the chair, finding a comfortable position.

"Aren't you going home?" she asked curiously, watching as Jillian settled herself in. She glanced over at Bill who seemed to be doing the same.

Both shook their heads no.

"We'll be right here if you need us."

"That's really sweet," Sara said softly, "but you two really should go home and get some rest. In real beds. The doctor doesn't seem concerned, and like she said that I'm only staying here because it's precaution."

"I don't mind," Bill said.

"Me either."

"I know, and I appreciate that, but I'd feel much better if you two were at home, sleeping in your own bed. Besides, I think I need a little bit of time to just . . . . take it all in, you know?" She glanced over at the computer print off photo of the baby. "Trust me, I'm not going to be running a marathon. I'll stay here, and won't move an muscle."

"If you're sure," Jillian said, standing up and leaning over to hug Sara.

"I am," she smiled back.

"You can call us at any time if you need us," Bill assured her, leaning down to kiss her on the cheek. "Even if it's because you just don't want to be alone."

"Thank you," she smiled. The pair wandered off towards the door, glancing back at her, smiling slightly. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," they whispered back, slowly exitting the room.

Once the door was closed firmly behind them, Jillian let out a shaky breath. "Whoo."

"It's been a long night," Bill said, closing his eyes tightly, realizing for the first time just how tired he was. He pulled Jillian tight against him in a comforting hug. "I love you."

Jillian smiled into his chest. "I love you too." They slowly parted, taking one anothers hands, and making their way towards the exit. "You know, I didn't tell Sara this, but I was terrified. I thought she'd lost the baby."

Bill nodded, understanding. "I did too. Especially when the first machine didn't work. That had to have been one of the scariest times of my life."

"Mine too."

CSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSI

Four hours later, Sara woke up from her peaceful slumber. The moonlight shone into the room through the open window shades.

It didn't take long after Bill and Jillian left for her to fall asleep, but now, things were setting in. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Slowly, at first. Then faster. Her hand once again found her little bump. "I almost lost you, tonight," she said quietly. "We almost lost you, really. You have a lot of people who already love you. Your Daddys family can't wait to meet you." She glanced over at the ultrasound picture that seemed to glow in the moonlight that hit the paper. "I can't wait to meet you."

Her tears started to fall even faster and her emotions were frayed. A few minutes later, she was able to calm herself down a little. "I'm not going to lie to you, baby," she said gently, between soft sobs. "I'm scared. And I don't know the first thing about being pregnant. Let alone being a mother. But I love you so much. And I know your Daddy would too. And I don't want to put any pressure on you," she rubbed her abdomen, "but, hey, you're never going to remember this, right? I can't loose you. You're all I have left. Your Daddy was my only family, and now that he's not here, you're it. You're my life. Without him, I thought my life was over. Then I found out that you were in there," she spoke to her stomach. "If I lost you too, I would die. So you hang on, OK? We're going to figure out everything as we go, and it'll be scary. But I love you too much not to try." She reached over for a tissue to dry her eyes. "So you rest," she said softly. "Get big and strong. And when you're ready, I'll be out here in the world waiting for you."

Once she was done talking to her baby, she just pulled her legs up to her chest and rested her forehead against her knees, softly crying . . . . scared for what the next few days might bring. What the next few months might bring. What the next 18 years might bring . . .

CSICSICSICSICSICSI . . . .

"What do you mean you can't tell us where she is, or how she's doing?" Grissom's strong, but quiet, voice resonated within the empty room.

"I'm sorry, Sir," an Elderly woman apologized from the desk. "But it's after visiting hours and you aren't family."

"Of for crying out loud," Catherine sighed, pulling out her CSI tag which she'd thrown in her purse by accident, rather than leaving it in her locker back at the Lab. She thrust the laminated picture ID infront of the womans face. "I'm Catherine Willows with the Las Vegas Crime Lab. These are my collegues Gil Grissom, Warrick Brown and Greg Sanders. We are investigating the incident involving CSI Sidle."

"Your from Vegas, in Texas, investigating this?" she said, disbelieving.

Catherine nodded her head indignantly. "Yes. Sara Sidle work for the Las Vegas Crime Lab, as well. Why wouldn't we be?"

"Um, because it's not a matter for the police to get involved with," the older woman said firmly. "If there is one thing I hate, young lady, it's being lied too. If you want to see Ms. Sidle, you'll have to wait until visiting hours. And even then, she will have to clear you to be placed on the visitors list."

Grissom placed a hand on Catherine's shoulder, pulling her back from the window. "Look," he said to her, but to Warrick and Greg as well, "we can always call the Stokes family to see if they know anything about this."

"You know Judge Stokes?" The Elderly woman asked quickly. Obviously her hearing was fully intact. She could hear a pin drop in another room.

Grissom straightened his back. "Yes, my team and I worked with him a few weeks ago."

The woman visibly softened. "On his sons abduction?"

The four nodded their heads solemnly.

"Was Ms. Sidle also one of the investigators?" she asked. She really didn't know the story behind how the Stokes knew Sara, but just that they seemed to be very concerned and close with the woman. When she saw the four nod their heads in confirmation once again, she sighed. "Poor girl. She's been through so much."

"May we please see her?" Warrick asked, his voice bordering on desperation. "Just to make sure she's OK?"

"Please?" Greg asked. "We've been very concerned. We won't stay long. We won't disturb her, just stay long enough to see her for our own eyes. We'll come back in the morning to talk to her."

The Eldery woman looked from one face to the next, until she could clearly see how distraught they all were with worry. "I could get into a lot of trouble for this," she sighed, looking at the paper to confirm Sara's room number. "She's in room 458. Just go to the end of the hall, take the elevators to the fourth floor and then follow the signs to her room."

After thanking the woman profusely, the four headed towards the elevator.

"This way," Grissom quietly instructed, leading the way towards her room on the fourth floor. "455 . . . 456 . . . 457 . . ." He stopped, glancing back at his team. "458. This is it."

Catherine stepped ahead of him, placing her hand on the door handle, preparing to go in. She looked at the three men standing just behind her before taking a deep breath, turning the knob and quietly entering the room.

The four stood in complete silence, their hearts breaking. Sara was still resting her head on her knees, sniffling.

"Sara?" Catherine said quietly as she stepped farther into the room.

Her head snapped up at the sudden noise and she looked into the faces of her four concerned friends. She immediately forced her emotions back. But it was too late. The tell tale sign of red, puffy eyes, and blotchy skin told them all they needed to know.

Sara took a deep breath and forced a smile, meekly answering them. "Hi, guys. What're you doing here?"

TBC . . .
 
Chapter 12:

CSICSICSICSICSICSI

"What we doing here?" Warrick questioned her. His voice wasn't soft, but it wasn't harsh either. He sounded more confused than anything. "Why wouldn't we be here?"

Sara glanced down at the bed, idly playing with the thin cotton sheet covering her legs. "I'm sorry. I just . . . I did expect to see you."

"We didn't expect you to leave Vegas," Greg pointed out, walking over to the bed and squeezing her hand quickly, smiling slightly. "And we certainly didn't expect that you wouldn't call us to let us know where you were. And if you were OK."

"Speaking of which," Grissom said quickly, but quietly, his eyes roaming her body for any signs of trauma, "what happened?"

Sara's breath hitched in her throat. Could she tell them? Was she ready for them to know? Would they be happy for her? Would they be mad that she and Nick didn't tell them about their relationship?

"I fell down the stairs at Nick's parents house," she said quietly.

Catherine sat down at the foot of the bed, facing Sara. Gil stood at the foot of the bed studying her. Waiting for her to continue.

Warrick took the seat next to Sara, opposite of Greg. He picked up her hand, this thumb rubbing against the smooth flesh. "We know, Sar."

"Know?" She questioned, her eyes glistening. "Know what?"

"About you and Nick," Catherine rubbed her leg gently.

Sara closed her eyes tightly. "I'm sorry we didn't tell you."

"It's OK," Gil said solemnly. He wished that he'd known. That might've explained Sara's reaction to his death a lot better. But it didn't matter anymore. "You were both happier that I'd ever seen you. And if that's what you did for each other, then you two obviously did something right."

Sara felt a crocodile tear fall down her cheek and she quickly wiped it away. "We wanted to tell you. But . . . ."

"Ecklie," Catherine finished for her.

Grissom seethed. Ecklie was one of the biggest reasons why he'd never tried to move beyond a professional relationship with Sara. He was seemingly completely against office romances. That was bad enough. But it physically made his heart ache to know that Sara had been grieving Nick's death basically alone because she and Nick had been fearful of what Ecklie would do if he ever found out.

"We were going to tell you," she nodded. "Soon, actually. We were talking about buying a house and living together. Matching change of address forms would've been a give-a-way."

"Why did you say anything after?" Greg asked, looking into his friends troubled eyes. "We could've been there for you more than we were."

Sara shook her head quickly. "No." It was firm. "It didn't seem important after everything that happened. It wouldn't have changed anything."

"Sara, we would've understood -"

"And you would've treated me completely differently. Like I was about to break." She looked at them all, surprised at how angry she sounded. "I'm sorry," she sighed. "I just didn't want to make it seem like Nick meant more to me than to any of you. We all loved him."

"But you were in love with him, weren't you?" Catherine asked quietly.

Sara swallowed against the lump in her throat. She nodded her head. "Still am. Always will be."

"Why did you leave?" Warrick asked her, leaning back against the material of the chair.

"After Nick's abduction," she looked down, "I knew that I wasn't really myself. I was just a shell of me. And work was the one thing that made any sense. And as soon as Grissom put me on LOA, the walls just came crashing down. I felt trapped. Leaving was the only way out."

Grissom looked down at the foot of the bed. "I'm sorry, Sara."

Sara shook her head. "Don't be." She smiled gently at him. "I was resentful at first. Believe me, I was pissed. And I do miss it. Immensely. But I understand why you did what you did. I think I would've done the same thing if I were in your position."

The room fell silent for a few minutes, everyone lost in their own thoughts.

"Sara?" Catherine started apprehensively. "You said you fell down a flight of stairs. Why are they keeping you over night? You look OK. And even someone with a concussion is checked over and released."

She smiled a little, reaching over for the paper picture on the table beside the bed, which had been face down on the veneer of the pressed partical board. She held the paper firmly in her hands for a second before extending her arm to Catherine so she could take the paper. "This is why."

Catherine looked confused, but took the photo anyway. She glanced at both Greg and Warrick who were watching her curiously and she could feel Grissom's stare on her back. Slowly, she turned it over to take a look at it. She gasped slightly, smiling a little. "Really?"

Sara smile widened and it was genuine. "Really."

"And you're sure you're OK?" Grissom said, eyeing her closely.

"What's going on?" Greg asked, feeling out of the loop.

"Yes, we're fine," she spoke.

"Huh? Would someone tell Greg and I what's going on - wait. We're?"

"I'm pregnant," Sara whispered, her voice hitching. "I fell because I was dizzy, and I just happened to be climbing the stairs to go to bed."

Catherine smiled at Sara. "This is wonderful. I loved being pregnant with Lindsay. I'm sure you're going to love it too."

"I just wish Nick were here," she felt another tear slip down her cheek as her heart became heavy.

Warrick's smile disappeared and his features saddened. "Did he know?"

She shook her head no sadly. "I didn't find out until a couple of weeks ago. I guess I should be thankful, though. At least he didn't feel guilty because he didn't know he was leaving a child behind."

Catherine's smile disappeared and her eyes clouded over with guilt. She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

"He'd have been thrilled, Sara," Greg chimed in, swallowing around the lump in his throat.

"Thanks," she whispered. "I needed to hear that." She felt herself begin to yawn and as much as she tried to hide it, it was impossible.

"Looky here," Warrick teased, "I think someone needs her beauty rest."

"Shut up," she grinned, gently slapping at him.

He chuckled deeply, standing up. He carefully leaned over and pulled her torso into him. "I'm glad your OK, Sara. I've missed you." He kissed her on the cheek then bent down and spoke quietly, but still loud enough for everyone to hear. "You'd better be sleeping, little one. If you're not, as your Uncle Warrick, I feel it is my responsibility to tell you that it is way past your bed time." Everyone laughed softly. "You be nice to your mommy, OK?" He placed his hand on her stomach for a quick second before stepping away, smiling at her the entire time.

"Uncle Warrick is the responsible one," Greg said to her stomach, almost conspiratorily. "Responbile equals uncool. So I, cool Uncle Greg, will show you how to pick up chicks -"

"You mean after you learn?" Warrick quipped.

"And take you to strip clubs -"

"Hey now," Sara laughed, "no corrupting my child before he or she is even born."

Greg grinned. "OK, maybe we'll just have to settle for me taking you out for your very first beer. When your of legal age, of course."

"Of course," she smiled at him. "But, uh? Greg? What if it's a girl?"

"Hmm . . . I guess I'll build her a doll house." He shrugged. "I'll figure something out." He leaned over and hugged Sara. "Get some rest, OK?"

"Sure," she said, hugging him back.

Grissom stood awkwardly at the foot of the bed, staring at Sara. "I don't really know what to say."

Sara smiled, nodding her head. "I know. It's OK."

He smiled slightly at her before walking around to the side of the bed and leaning in to hug her as well. "I've missed you." He kissed her on the cheek then turned to join Warrick and Greg at the door.

Catherine look at Sara, still feeling guilty. She looked over at the guys. "Uh, I'll be out in a minute OK? I need to talk to Sara alone."

The three nodded their heads and all threw smiles over at Sara, telling her they'd see her soon.

One the door was closed, Catherine sighed. "I'm so sorry, Sara. If I'd known, I never would've said what I did."

Sara smiled. "I know, and it's OK. I didn't even know then."

Flashback

Sara sat on the stool near the bar, absently tracing the rim of her glass of sprite. Tears were welling up in her eyes, but they didn't fall. She wouldn't cry. She couldn't. Not in front of everyone.

Catherine sighed as she sat down on the stool next to her. "What a day," she said quietly, holding her hand up to the bar tender, signalling that she'd like a refill. "How are you doing? You've been pretty quiet."

She shrugged her shoulders. "Fine, I guess," but her words were hollow. Truth was, she felt like she was going to fall apart. She sat through the service, trying to focus all her energy on the memories of Nick that filled her thoughts. The times he held her and kissed her. The happy times. "Feels like it's just been a bad day. A horrible dream. That I'm going to wake up and he'll be sitting in the break room, telling me that I've been working too hard."

Catherine nodded her head. "It doesn't seem real, does it?"

She shook her head no. "I can still hear him laughing, Cath. Like he's right there and all I have to do is reach out and grab his hand. But no matter how hard I try, my arms just aren't long enough and I can't bring him back."

"I know," she agreed, downing her scotch in one swig. "But I guess we just have to take comfort that Nick didn't leave behind a wife or kids. Lindsay loved her father so much, and she misses him so terribly. If he had to be taken, at least there isn't a widow out there with a whole in her heart and kids to feed."

Sara nodded her head. She cleared her throat, fighting against the tears that continued to threaten to fall. "I, ah, I think I'm going to go home." She swiveled around on the bar stood, standing up. "See ya later, Cath." Not waiting for a good bye, she briskly walked out in to the warm Las Vegas night air.

She blindly walked away from the Tangiers, where Catherine's father had allowed the Crime Lab and LVPD officers to gather to say good bye to one of their own. Walking down the strip in daze of bright lights and laughter, Sara could feel the emptiness in the pit of her stomach. He may not have left a wife or children behind, but he'd still left a woman who'd loved him more than life itself. Four days ago, when she'd last seen him in the locker room, telling her about their weekend getaway, she never would've thought that her life could've changed so drastically, so quickly. Of that she'd feel like her heart had been ripped out . . . and the tears fell.

End flashback

"I can't imagine what it must've been like for Nick down there," she said quietly, looking down at her hands. When she glanced up at Catherine, she smiled bitterly, "but as much as I wanted to tell him that I loved him and that it would be OK, I'm glad he didn't know about the baby. I think that just would've made things harder for him."

Catherine nodded her head, not knowing what to say. So she leaned in and hugged the woman, both letting their emotions seep from their orbs. Together, they cried, rocking back and forth. Crying for that of a lost life . . . and a new life . . .

"It's going to be OK," Catherine said. "You'll see."

CSICSICSICSICISCISCSICSI

There's a ship out

On the ocean

At the mercy of the sea

It's been tossed about

Lost and broken

Wandering aimlessly

And God somehow

You know that ship is me

'Cause there's a lighthouse

In the harbour

Shining faithfully

Pouring its light out

Across the water

For this sinking soul to see

That someone out there

Still believes in me

On a prayer, in a song

I hear your voice and

It keeps me hanging on

Raining down

Against the wind

I'm reaching out till

We reach the circle's end

When you come

Back to me again

There's a moment

We all come to

In our own time and

Our own space

Where all that we've done

We can undo

If our heart's

In the right place

On a prayer, in a song

I hear your voice and

It keeps me hanging on

Raining down

Against the wind

I'm reaching out till

We reach the circle's end

When you come

Back to me again

And again I see

My yesterday's in front of me

Unfolding like a mystery

You're changing all that is

And used to be

On a prayer, in a song

I hear your voice and

It keeps me hanging on

Raining down

Against the wind

I'm reaching out till

We reach the circle's end

When you come

Back to me again

When you come

Back to me again

Nick leaned against the cold cement wall in the dark, dingy basement. He slowly knocked his head against the hard surface staring off into space.

He felt a tear rolling down his cheek. Crying had never been the way he'd dealt with his emotions. But that was all he had. There was nothing else. Sitting alone in a dark, dingy basement was all he did. Day in, Day out. A stack of writing tablets with yellow paper sat in the corner by the hard bed. Some filled up with his thoughts. Others with letters, detailing how he missed those he loved. How he wished he'd done things differently. Wishing that the people on the outside world knew where to look. But the various news papers on the cold floor told him that no one believed him to be alive.

'CSI Stokes Dead,' one title read. It had been a newspaper published the morning after he'd been taken captive. The headline on another read 'CSI Death Investigation Closed on Lack of Evidence.' Though both of those papers had been difficult for him to see and read simply because it proved what he'd been told since the start -- that no one was looking for him -- but the worst article had been on the front page four days after his so called death. The picture plastered on the recycled paper showed his team sitting side by side in the front row of his LVPD Memorial. Catherine had tears rolling down her face as Grissom sat stoically beside her. Warrick looked sick, Greg looked like he'd lost his puppy. But it was Sara that had tugged on his heart strings the most.

She sat there, in her black dress, head hung low, lips pursed together in a pout that he knew meant she was on the verge of loosing it, but was determined to hold it together even if it meant she'd hurt even worse. He ran his fingers along the contours of her face, thankful that he had the picture even if it was of such sad event in his friends lives. It was all he had left of them. His wallet had been lost somewhere along the way in the shuffle of his abduction, the pictures inside disappearing along with it . . . . Even if he never got out of there, he'd always have the picture from the Memorial in the paper to remind them of the wonderful people whom he'd been lucky enough to have in his life. And while he knew he'd never forget his beautiful Sara, and what she looked like, he liked having something tangible to hold on to.

He focused on her face, trying to remember what it was like to hold her in his arms. To feel the warmth of her body. To feel her love. The lump in his throat restricted his breathing and the tears flowed from his eyes. "I love you, Sara," he cried quietly.

Suddenly standing up, he reached out for the lamp in anger, throwing it to the floor, shattering it into a million pieces. He stared down at a large piece of broken glass. Bending down, he picked up the shard. Eyeing it carefully, he stood back up and walked over to the bed. The feeling of desperation that he'd been feeling since he'd been taken was slowly being replaced by depression.

"It's the only way out of this hell," he muttered, bringing the glass up to his line of vision for one last inspection . . .

TBC . . . .
 
Chapter 13:

The team entered Sara's hospital room quietly. It was almost eight thirty and they wanted to come say goodbye before they had to head back to Vegas.

"Mr. Stokes, Mrs. Stokes," Warrick greeted kindly, stepping forward and giving Nick's mom a gentle hug and kiss on the cheek before stepping aside and firmly shaking his fathers hand.

The two smiled warmly at Warrick and the rest of the team.

"Where's Sara?" Grissom asked.

"Found her," Greg dead panned, making a disgusted face and nodding towards the closed bathroom door.

"How long has she been in there?" Catherine quietly asked Jillian.

"At least ten minutes," she sighed. "The morning sickness has been giving her trouble for a while now. All the home remedies that we've tried just don't seem to work."

"Same thing happened to me when I was pregnant with Lindsay. Just had to ride it out," Catherine sighed.

After a few minutes of idle chit chat, Sara emerged from the bathroom, flushed and feeling only slightly better. She looked up and managed a weak smile. Slowly she crawled back up on to the bed which was located near the bathroom door, tucking her knees underneath her as she sat back, intent on keeping with doctors orders of bed rest. "Morning," she said through a sudden yawn.

"Morning," Warrick smiled, leaning over and placing a chaste kiss on her cheek. "How'd you sleep?"

"Pretty good, I guess," she shrugged, smiling a little.

"You look pretty tired, Sara," Greg commented as he leaned down and gave her a kiss on the cheek as well.

Catherine and Jillian chuckled when they saw the look that she shot towards Greg. He put up his hands in mock surrender.

"Women are always tired when they are pregnant," Catherine pointed out.

"Especially after a long night," Jillian added softly.

"Speaking of which," Grissom spoke up, "there weren't any complications after we left, were there?"

Sara smiled a little, shaking her head happily. "I'm being sprung from the joint this morning."

"That's great," Catherine said genuinely.

"So, when are you coming home?" Greg asked bluntly.

She blinked a few times, thinking deeply. "I'm not sure. There isn't much of a rush. Besides, I'm not going back to work." When she heard Grissom sigh, she quickly added, "because I don't want too. At least, not yet. To be honest, as much as I miss working with you guys and my job, I'm not sure I'm going back."

"Where would you go?" Warrick asked, his brows furrowing together.

"I'm thinking that right here sounds pretty good," she gave them a watery smile before turning her attention to Jillian and Bill. "I had some time to think last night," she admitted. "I can't say that it's going to be forever, but I know that I can't do this alone," she heard Catherine chuckle and she smirked. "I know I need help. If you asked me a year ago if I ever needed help with anything, I'd have said that I was completely self sufficient. But Nick taught me that it's OK to need to help." The tears continued to well up in her eyes. "And our baby deserves to know its family. God knows I don't have any." She turned her attention away from Jill and Bill's smiling faces and towards her friends who were looking sad. "Except the family that I have in Vegas." A tear slipped down her cheek and she wiped it away quickly.

"We'll give you guys some time alone," Bill said, placing his hand on his wifes back and leading her out of the room, gently closing the door behind them.

"I'm not saying that I'll never come back, but right now, I just don't think I can. Not without Nick," more tears slipped down her face. "I'm going to visit after the baby is born. I want you all to know this baby. And I want this baby to know where Nick thought of as home. As much as he loves Texas, Vegas was his home. Our home." The tears were falling too fast now for her to wipe them away. Catherine leaned down and hugged her.

"We're going to miss you," Grissom said stoically. But inside, he was a mess. They'd lost Nick. Then they'd lost Sara, and got her back. Now they were loosing her all over again.

"I'm just a phone call away," Catherine said, taking Sara's face in between her hands. "And I expect you to to do just that, OK?"

Sara smiled. "Yeah."

Warrick just smiled at Sara, trying his best to keep his own emotions at bay. He understood why she had to leave. It didn't meant that he liked it though. "You're like a sister to me, Sara. And Nick was like my brother. Which, I suppose would make us a very dysfunctional family," he smirked and she laughed lightly. "I love you so much. But I'm going to come up here and visit as much as I can. You're going to be sick of me."

"That'll never happen," she whispered, pulling him towards her for a hug. "Nick loved you like a brother too. And I love you too," she kissed his cheek before plastering a big smile across her face, gently pushing him away.

"I guess this is goodbye then," Greg looked down at the floor.

She shook her head. "Nu ah. Not goodbye. More like see you later," she commented. "You can't get rid of me that easily. I meant what I said. You are all my family. And I hold that very close to me."

Greg grinned at her. Part of him truly wanted to believe her. But he knew that in all his experience, when someone made the life altering decision to live far away from their home base, even if only for a while, they generally never came back. Life had a funny way of getting in the way. Changing things. And having a baby was definitely one of those life altering occassions. And as much as he wanted to believe that things wouldn't change, he knew that they would. And this was only the beginning. Perhaps the beginning of the end.

"So, I guess we should get going," Catherine announced, standing up as she looked at her watch. "If we board the plane by ten, we can be back in Vegas by noon. Long enough to go home, get some rest, and then head in for our shifts tonight."

Sara smiled at them, emotions overwhelming her. Other than Nick, no one had ever gone out of their way to show her how much she meant to them. But now, she had four people flying from Nevada to Texas just to check on her. "Thank you," she whispered, biting down on her lip in an attempt to not burst into tears.

"I love you," Catherine said quietly, leaning down and hugging Sara quickly, stroking her back in the process. "Now, I'd better go give the pilot a call and tell him to gas up the jet."

"Give Linds a hug for me, OK?"

Catherine nodded her head, smiling through her own tears. "Will do." Gently waving a silent good bye, she walked out of the door, and down the corridor, in search of a pay phone to call the pilot.

"I guess we'll be heading out then," Warrick sighed, squeezing her knees cap in his palm. "Do us a favor, alright? Send us those ultrasound pictures of the Squirt, will ya?"

Sara smiled, throwing a glance over at the black and white print off beside the bed. "Absolutely." She winked at him. "Uncle Warrick."

He chucked good naturedly, mussing up her hair slightly.

"Take care of yourself," Greg whispered, his eyes glazing over. "You're going to be a great mother, Sara."

"Thanks, Greggo," she smiled.

His smile was genuine. The last time he'd been called that was by Nick. "Nick would've been so thrilled. I'm sure he'll be with you ever step of the way in spirit."

She nodded her head, tears once again pooling and spilling out of her eyes. "I hope so."

"I know so," he winked. He leaned over, giving her a quick hug, and when he pulled back, he spoke to her tummy, "take care of your mommy, little one. She's a stubborn woman, so you've got your work cut out for you."

Greg stood up and walked towards the door where Warrick was standing, both men waiting for Grissom to say his goodbye and join them.

"I'll be out in a minute," the older CSI said, silently telling the others that he needed a moment alone with Sara.

The two took the hint, exitting the room.

Sara sat there for a few minutes watching him curiously. He hadn't looked at her. In fact, he'd been looking every where but at her.

"Hey," she said softly, reaching out a hand for Grissom to take.

He smiled slightly, taking her offered hand. "I'm sorry."

She sighed, rolling her eyes slightly, but good naturedly. "Gris, I've already told you--"

"I'm sorry that we didn't get to Nick in time," he blurted out. His shoulders slumped forward and for the first time, Sara could see what kind of emotional turmoil Grissom was really in. They all knew he'd been effected by Nick's loss -- but the wall around his heart came down and she could clearly see how troubled he was.

"You did your best," she told him, shaking her head. "We all did. And in my heart, I know that Nick knows that."

"You still talk about him in present tense, you know," he sighed.

"I guess I do," she acknowledged. "I still don't feel it in my heart." She bit her lip. "I just can't help but feel like there is a piece of the puzzle out there, of what happened, waiting to be found. Something that will make it all real." She took a deep breath. "And as much as we all need that . . . closure, I'm not sure I want it. Because if I get that, I might feel like maybe it will make it real, and I'll have to let go. Nick told me once, when I was working on a cold case, that not all victims want to know what happened . . . I didn't really understand what he meant back then. You know? How could anyone not want closure? But now . . . even though I'm not the victim, closure might make it seem too real . . . ."

"If we'd just found the link to Nick and the Gordon's earlier, he'd be here now. And your baby wouldn't be without a father."

Sara shook her head no. "He's not here physically. But our baby will know Nick. There is no doubt in my mind. His family will tell our baby all about the kind of man he was. Stories about when he was a kid. And they'll have you too," she smiled. "I meant what I said. You guys are all my family. Nick's too. I couldn't just up and leave, cutting you all out of my life. I need you guys too much."

Grissom smiled at her. "I admire you, Sara." He noticed a confused look grace her features. "You've stayed strong. Your life is headed on a path that no one should ever be on -- facing being a mother without the babys father. And you're handling it so well. Nick was a lucky man."

"I'm a lucky woman," her chin quivered. "For almost a year, I was the luckiest. And now, even without him besides me, he's given me the greatest gift he could've," her hand found her stomach. "Nick was the person that I never knew I needed," she admitted. She looked up at him, her gaze holding his. "Did you ever have someone like that in your life?"

He looked down into her brown eyes. An ironic smile played on his lips. "Yes, but I made a huge mistake. I waited until it was too late." And he knew he had. Even though he hadn't found out about the relationship until after it had ended far too soon, he hadn't been blind. He'd noticed the subtle changes in both of them in the few short months that they had been together. And he'd always secretly hoped that it had been him, something that he'd done, that had put that smile on her face. But he always knew that he wasn't.

"If she's still here, Gris," Sara said quietly, "it's not too late. Take a chance."

Grissom leaned down and placed a kiss on her cheek, much the same as Warrick and Greg had done. "Take care, Sara," he whispered, then turned around silently and walked out the door, not bothering to look back. He was ready to cry himself. Sara was encouraging him to go after her. But he knew that she didn't believe that he'd been speaking of her. If he thought he had a chance at love with her, after everything that she'd been through - that they'd been through, he would've taken that chance. But he knew that she wasn't ready. And even when that time rolled around, he wouldn't be the man to fill the void in her heart. He could try to be, but he'd always be second choice. And playing second to a ghost was just not a role that Grissom felt he was suited for.

CSICSICSICSICSICSI

30 thousand feet in the air, somewhere over Arizona

Greg was bored out of his mind. No one was in a chatty mood, and the movie selection had been horrendous. When he'd tried to turn on some music, three evil stares had shot him down and he realized that no one was interested in listening to his brand of entertainment.

Catherine was on the phone, quietly talking to Lindsay about something. Grissom was reading an Entomology book that he'd brought with him, completely engrossed in the facts. Warrick was sitting on one of the plush leather seats, a glass of Brandy in his hand as he stared down at the desert beneath them. He slowly took a drink of the amber liquid, letting the warmth wash over his throat as its subtle burn worked its way down his throat.

"What're you thinking?" Greg asked, plopping down on the opposite side of the couch. He glanced out the window at the desolate landscape.

"Sara. Nick. The baby," he shrugged. He took another sip of the liquor. He smirked bitterly. "We're supposed to be the best, right?" Though his question was rhetorical, his eyes pierced Gregs. "So, if that's the case, why couldn't we find him in time?"

Greg sighed, scratching the back of his head. "I don't know man. But people say things happen for a reason."

"Yeah, well that's bull shit. Nick was a good guy. And he didn't deserve to go out like that. He deserved to be happy. He deserved to be with Sara, and watch his baby grow and come into the world. Sara's deserved better than this too. So much shitty stuff has happened to her and just when she found a sliver of happiness, it was yanked away from her. And now she has a baby to raise on her own. None of this is fair."

"As much as I want to have someone to blame -"

"We do," Warrick's jaw was set. "Kelly Gordon had a damn good idea of where he was. I'm going to make sure that bitch pays if it's the last thing I do."

Greg looked into Warrick's determined eyes, knowing that his decision had been made. "She won't get away with it," Greg assured him.

CSICSICSICSICSICSI

Sylvia Mullins entered her house after her morning jog. She grabbed a couple of bottles of water from the fridge, placing one on a dining tray and opening the other, taking a long swig of the cold liquid to quench her burning throat. Moving around her kitchen, she grabbed various pieces of fruit and toasted a bagel, liberally spreading strawberry cream cheese over the top.

Feeling generous, she placed the mornings newspaper on the tray beside the food.

"You might not like being here," she said quietly as she poured a glass of orange juice, "but that doesn't mean I want you to suffer."

She did genuinely feel bad for the man. He'd done nothing wrong. Walter had simply been out for revenge and she'd unwittingly gotten mixed up in it. Having fallen in love with the man, she was blinded to his demons and not noticed his strange behavior. He'd purchased the house for them, putting it in her name, telling her it was for safetys sake. He said that he loved her and that if anything had ever happened to him, he wanted to know that she was taken care of. That should've been her first clue . . . And there was no documentation that he even lived at the address, which had also been the reason why no cops had come around the house with a search warrant . . . .

After they'd moved in, she'd always felt it to be odd that Walter would just disappear for hours on end. She never knew what he was doing, but his car was always home. He hadn't been one to take a leisurely stroll, so it always had perplexed her. But again, she hadn't thought much of it. She trusted him with her life and knew that he would never hurt her. Making a precautionary provision for her 'just in case' had left her feeling quite confident that he wasn't a straying man. But one day, she'd been gathering towels to put in the laundry from one of the main floors bathrooms when she'd seen him discreetly shimy up to a painting on the wall, touch the frame and the wall open up just enough for him to slip through.

Terrified and angered that there was a secret room that she'd known nothing about, she'd tossed the laundry onto the floor and followed him without a second thought. The wall had opened up to a stair case and she'd quietly padded down them into the cold room that had no natural sun light and smelt of concrete powder.

Flashback

"Walter!" she shrieked, horrified at seeing a nearly built cage sitting to the side of the room. "What the hell is all this?!" she demanded.

He looked at her her. "You weren't supposed to see this."

"Is this what I think it is?" When he didn't answer, she knew she was right. "Tell me what all this is about right now!"

He'd explained to her about his daughter and how she'd been wrongfully accused of murder. All she'd truly been guilty of was being at the wrong place at the wrong time because she'd trusted the wrong people.


"And so you want revenge?" she gasped. "This is not you, Walter, This is not the man that I've fallen in love with. We can appeal the courts decision and -"

"I already have!" he yelled, anger boiling inside of him. "They won't listen to reason."

"Well plotting to take someone -"

"Not just anyone -- someone from law enforcement," he clarified.

"Well, it's not right, and it's downright risky. And stupid!" She paced back and forth. "You'll get caught, or someone will wind up dead. Either way, I'll loose you. And I can't loose you, Walter. I just can't. After I lost Jack, my life fell apart. I can't go through that again! I just can't!" she cried.

He didn't know what to do so he just leaned forward and took her into his embrace. He kissed the side of her head as she sobbed.


"Promise me that you won't do anything with this!" she wailed. "Promise me that you won't bring someone into our home against their will."

He nodded his head. "I won't," he promised, but silently vowed to find another way to get his revenge. Someway where his dear Sylvia would not pay the price.

End flashback

She'd figured out what was going on and had tried to stop it, but Walter had already set the ball in motion. It had been too late to turn back the clock. She'd pleaded with him, but he was too far gone to listen to her. She'd searched his private records and documentation in his home office, breaking codes to gain password information . . . when she'd figured out where Nick was being hidden, she'd had to come up with a plan -- and quickly.

She wanted to let him go, but at the last minute, had had a panic attack and freaked out, terrified that she'd somehow be punished for something that hadn't been her idea. She now realized that allowing her panic to fuel her decisions had been the worst decision she'd made. Not wanting to be thrown in jail, she made a phone call to an old class mate whom she knew was willing to do anything, including be a contract killer, if the price was right.

When he'd found out what she needed, his immediate price at been $200,000 cash, but since he had a small job, hers would have to wait until morning. Knowing that the man in the box didn't have that much time, she'd offered up $300,000 if he'd do it immediately. He agreed.

She'd raced over to the bank, and talked the branch manager into giving her $300,000 immediately. It had taken a little bit of finess, but they knew her and Walter quite well and being the respected and wealthy clients that they were, they'd handed the money over to her without much fuss.

Having half the payment up front, the two raced to Connors Nursery. Though muffled, the two heard a gun shot coming from under them. She'd sent a silent prayer up to the heavens, praying that they weren't too late. Being cautious, she pumped sleeping gas into the pipe that fed air to the glass box, hoping that she'd give the man enough to knock him out, but not enough to seriously harm him. While she was doing that, her hired man cut the live feed to the video, which caused the Crime Lab to loose the image of Nick, alive and well, but getting sleepier by the minute. Then they proceeded to dig the loosened soil up from around the area.

Luckily for the two them, he was a bomb expert and managed to disengage the explosive in order to pull Nick out of the coffin and into the back of her SUV, tieing his hands and legs and then gaging him, just in case he woke up. Just as they were about to leave the Nursery, he'd re-engaged the bomb, then detonated it.

As quickly and discreetly as possible, the two jumped back into the SUV and slowly drove back towards Las Vegas, passing the police convoy as it headed to the Nursery in search of the man in the back of her truck.

Sylvia slowly crept down the stairs and could hear the soft crooning of country music. While she hated it, she didn't want to complain. It was one of the few outlets of entertainment that she'd given him, and she didn't have the heart to take it away. As much as she wanted to send him back to the people that loved him, the risk for herself was just too high.

Turning the corner, breakfast tray in hand, her eyes widened in shock. She dropped the tray, the glass of orange juice and breakfast plate shattering as it hit the cement . . . gasping, she breathed, "oh my God."

TBC . . . .
 
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