CSI

What It Takes

Demosthenes

Summary: Sometimes it takes more than a bit more than luck to get free from a cold-blooded killer. When our favorite lab rat is taken hostage in a store far away from Las Vegas, he will do whatever it takes to get rescue himself from the hands of the killer.

Chapter One: Midnight Moon

Greg Sanders parked his CSI jeep into the darkened parking lot of a nearly cleaned out Gas Stop/Store. The lights were on, but they were dimmed, as though there weren't anyone really working there. There were many differnent things that seemed a bit off, but Greg wasn't really paying any attention. He was already tired from the long drive, and seemed on the verge of collapsing to sleep. However, he was willing to pull a few more hours before pulling off the road to fall asleep. There was too many more miles to go before he got to his destination. Looking up at the moon as he crossed the near-empty parking lot, he smiled, thinking about Warrick's earlier joke about getting eaten out in the desert on a full moon by a bunch of wolves. Pushing open the door, he saw something that made him frown. Only one person was at the counter, but that wasn't unusual.

What was unusual was the fact that there was almost nothing on the counter, save for the cash register, and there was obviously the feel of fear in the room. Greg glanced at the woman behind the counter out of curiosity, wondering what the hell was going on. She was staring at him as though she had never seen anyone before, and had a pleading look in her eyes. He frowned, thinking. He remembered another jeep in the parking lot, a really dark greenish black color, but didn't think anything of it. Perhaps someone was robbing the store-

He reached towards his pocket slowly, as though he'd just thought of paying for the gas, even though he hadn't gotten any. He was about to punch in the numbers of Sara's phone, when something cold and hard connected with the back of his neck. He froze, and knew that he was right in guessing what was wrong here. He turned around, hands up, and said slowly,

"I'm not looking for harm. I'm only paying for my gas." Greg studied the man in front of him, taking in the outfit and what he looked like, in case he didn't take his cell phone, and could use it to describe him when he called for help later. The guy was wearing all black, but he didn't even have a mask on. Greg took a quick glance at the camera, and saw why. It was totally ruined, and barely hanging on from the corner of the ceiling. The stranger with the gun was staring at him, and with a look that Greg felt really uneasy about. The woman behind him was whimpering and obvisouly terrified of what might happen.

"Who are you, boy?" Immediately, Greg resented the fact that the stranger with the gun had called him boy.

"I am not a boy." Greg couldn't help saying. He regreted it almost instantly however, but was surprised when the stranger only smiled grimly at him.

"I'll give you one more chance to answer me truthfully. Or I will shoot her." He added the last almost casually...actually, it was more like lazily. Greg glared at him. "Who are you?"

"Greg Sanders." He answered, staring at the gun, thinking quickly. If he was the only person here, perhaps he could overpower him...

"Greg Sanders." The man repeated, as though trying the name out. "Interesting name."

"Gee, thanks." Greg muttered, inwardly cringing as he spoke. His mouth was going to get him killed if he wasn't careful. "Really. And who are you? First meeting usually warrent introductions." He had stolen the line right from League of Extroadinary Gentlemen, surprising himself. The man gave another slight smile...he sent shivers down his back.

"Oh, I don't think I'll tell. Maybe I will, if I take you with me. What are you doing this far out?" He asked. Greg looked at him warily.

"I was taking a camping trip, getting some relief from work." It was the truth. Only now, he was wishing that he had brought someone from work with him so that he wouldn't have to be in this situation alone. Greg smiled grimly at the thought of them joking about him getting into trouble even as he was taking a vacation. Looked like they were right. Greg hesitantly lowered his arms, as they were starting to get tired from being in the air for so long. The stranger didn't even look like he cared, but then he said something Greg didn't expect.

"This place have a storeroom?" He barked at the girl behind the counter. Greg turned slightly and saw her gulp as she answered,

"Yes, sir, it does. It's-right through there." She had paused and pointed towards the back of the store.

"Good. Perhaps I'll leave you there. I don't really need you any more. Or perhaps I should just leave you behind this counter with all the stuff." Greg had alarm bells ringing in his head. The man had said that he'd leave the girl here, which was fine with him, but he hadn't said anything about him. Greg was starting to get a very bad feeling about what was about to happen...or what was about to be said.

"What do you do for a living, Sanders?" The man asked, as though it was simple curiosity that made him do so. Greg hesitated, before answering,

"I'm a CSI." The man looked confused, before Greg added, "A Crime Scene Investigator."

"Of all the luck." The woman behind him was heard to mutter. The man with the rifle waved it towards her and said casually,

"Don't push yours, madam. Greg Sanders, I think I'll take you with me as a...precaution, and leave this little lady here. After all...I'm not much for women. Especially irritating ones like that one." He added with a small smile in here direction.

"I resent that." The woman at the counter muttered, annoyed, but also mostly fearful. Greg's heart lurched at the thought of being kidnapped, and his friends not knowing. That would leave him even less time to be rescued, and save this woman while he was at it. He wasn't really one known for his bravery, but to his surprise, he blurted out,

"Don't kill her." The stranger looked amused.

"I won't kill, or hurt, her. In fact, when this is over, she can call your people for all I care. All I was really interested in was picking someone up from here, and maybe getting a bite to eat. I was wanting some company, after all." He gave a small chuckle, and Greg stared stared at him in slight fear. "The only thing though, is that I think I might have to tie this one up before we leave."

"I promise I'll stay where I am." The woman muttered darkly. The man frowned.

"Are you pushing for me to shoot you, young lady? Heather, was that your name?"

"Heather's my name." She admitted. "And no. Just...please don't tie me up."

"Very well. I'll shut you in the bathroom, with the door slightly wedged with a chair. Will that suit you?" The man asked pleasently. The woman looked at him as though he were insane.

"Fine." The woman said annoyed. Greg was inching towards her, when a loud boom sounded, and a faint scream erupted from the cashier. Greg stared in horror at where the woman had stood a moment before, but had disappeared behind the counter. Greg turned back towards the man. Killer, he corrected himself. This man's now a killer.

"You didn't have to do that." Greg said, anger tight in his voice. He was surprised at how calm he was. The killer shrugged, and stated calmly.

"She was getting on my nerves. Now, why don't you come over towards me, and we can leave this place together?"

"As if." Greg muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. "You'll going to have to shoot me before I go anywhere with you." The killer raised an eyebrow.

"Now, there's no need to get all angry. She was simply pushing her luck in being able to survive by testing my patience. Trust me, if she were male, she'd still be alive. Males aren't to be wasted, but females can especially be." Greg had a wild moment's thought of how both Catherine and Sara would fly at him if they'd heard him say that, especially if they could get away with it. Then, he shook his head firmly, though knowing that it was useless.

"All right then, Mr. Sanders. I suppose that we can do it the hard way." The killer approached Greg, who started to move towards the coutner, but before he could back away far enough, the killer struck out with his leg-connecting solidly with Greg's chest.

"Hey!" Greg managed to say, before falling towards the floor, grunting in pain. He was pulled to by his hair on his feet. Greg cried out in pain, and said,

"All right! All right! I'll go with you!" For a brief moment of relief, Greg felt the killer let go. But then something hard connected with the back of his skull and he went crashing to the floor like a baby falling from it's mother's arms. And all he saw was black.

AN: Wow! That was longer than I thought it was going to be. Hope everyone liked it. Please leave reviews...please! :D