Note: Hello everyone! Well, this is only my second story, but I've had it in my head for a while now. It's a little weird…but if you don't like it, don't be mean. This takes place during season 3. No telling how long this story will be, but it should be a lot longer than my last!

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

Prologue

Stretching, Sara Sidle leaned up from her pillow, letting out a tired yawn. She was running her fingers through her hair when she felt someone put a hand on her shoulder. Startled, she jumped.

"Sorry," said Sara's sleepy boyfriend, Hank Peddigrew.

"I thought you were still asleep. You scared the hell out of me."

He smiled, sat up and kissed her cheek. "Are you sure you're okay with me going in early?" She asked, leaning into him. He nodded, "I already told you I was. I should be getting home soon, anyway."

"Okay," She said as they both got out of bed. As Sara headed for the bathroom, Hank began pulling on his shirt. "Want me to come over tomorrow night?" He asked. "That would be great!" Sara called, stepping into the shower.

The two of them had been together for just over a year. They had met through work, which, Sara knew probably wasn't a good thing; especially after the Tom Haviland case, when their relationship was made public. She'd never been so embarrassed in all her life. But Hank was a good man. He'd been there for her.

Stepping out of the shower, she started getting ready for work. After about thirty minutes, she was completely ready. She picked up her purse, and headed for her cell phone. After picking it up, she noticed that she had an unread message from Hank. She anxiously opened it.

Sara,

Got called in early. Wanted you to know that my cell will be off. See you tomorrow night!

She looked down at the phone, smiling sadly. She wanted to text him back, but figured it would be pointless, considering his phone was turned off. Sighing, she walked out the door, and drove to work.

If only she knew the real reason for his phone being off.

XX

Sara arrived at the lab at about seven; a good three hours before her shift started. She didn't mind, though, she really wanted to wrap up her case before shift started. An old man had been found at the bottom of the staircase that led to his front porch. It looked like an accident; all she had to do was prove it.

XX

It was now nine thirty, and Sara had successfully finished her case. As she thought, it turned out to be an accident. The poor old man had tripped, after stepping on his untied shoelace, and tumbled down the stairs, hitting his head on the driveway, which ultimately killed him. As Sara got up from her chair, she looked down at her shoes, just in case.

Giggling to herself, she walked to the break room, where she found her boss, Gil Grissom, sipping his coffee. Smiling, she sat across from him. She liked having moments with just her and Grissom sometimes.

"You're in early," he noted as she sat down.

"Good morning to you too, Grissom."

"Sorry," he said, closing his eyes briefly, "good morning, Sara."

That's better, she thought. Her boss could be very strange sometimes, but, that was one of the many things she liked about him. Even though she didn't think about it as often as she used to, considering she had a boyfriend, there wasn't much she didn't like about Grissom. His bright blue eyes, his salt-and-pepper colored curls, the tiny little dimple in his chin, the smile that made her melt…

"So, Sara," his voice brought her out of her daydreaming, "what brings you in early?"

"I wanted to finish my case before shift," She said.

"Did you?" He asked, she nodded. "Well done," he smiled.

That smile…

"Hey, guys!" Came the excited voice of Greg Sanders, the DNA tech.

"Hey, Greg." Sara replied, somewhat annoyed. It wasn't that she didn't like Greg, he just had a-bad-tendency to flirt with her. Considering he was well aware of her being with Hank, it bothered her sometimes.

"Have you seen the others?" Grissom asked as Greg began to make his special brand of coffee.

"I saw Catherine at her locker, no sign of Nick or Warrick." He answered, not taking his eyes off his precious coffee.

"Hey, guys." Catherine said as she entered the room. "Hey, Greg, mind making me a cup of that Blue Hawaiian?" She said as she smelled the coffee in the air.

"Sure. Want some, Sara? Grissom?"

"No thanks, Greg." Grissom said, pointing to the cup he already had.

"I'll take some," Sara said.

Smiling, Greg poured three cubs of coffee, and handed one to Catherine, the other Sara, and kept one for himself.

Sara took a sip of her coffee, not knowing it would be her last cup for a long, long time.

XX

Grissom's phone began to vibrate in his pocket. "Grissom," he answered. He talked for a few more moments, then hung up the phone, putting back in his pocket.

"Nick just called," Grissom said, "he's running late, said to go ahead and start without him."

"Sara, Cath, we have a car crash at a restaurant. I'll come along until something comes up. Warrick will meet us there later."

After making a quick trip to their lockers to grab their kits, they headed to their crime scene. It was total chaos. Sirens going off, people screaming in pain, firemen and paramedics scrambling around from person to person, Victims being wheeled out on stretchers . Sara could see Brass walking towards them, he was talking to someone on his cell phone. He quickly explained the situation, and began walking off again.

"What about the driver?" Catherine asked.

"None responsive," he said over his shoulder.

Sara's eyes followed him for a brief moment, then something caught her eye. Or, rather, a familiar voice got her attention, causing her to glance further over her shoulder. It was Hank. He was tending to someone, but, he wasn't in his paramedic uniform. She walked over to inspect.

"Hey Sara, typical Thursday," he said, looking back down at his patient. It was then she noticed the large, dark bruise forming on his wrist. "Hank," She said, "your wrist is broken."

He looked down at his hand. "Yeah…it is." He sounded as though he was in a zombie like state. "Larry, take over, will ya?" He said to the man next to him, before walking off for a brief second. Sara heard the screeching of the drivers door being forced open as she followed him.

"What happened?" She asked. "I was sitting at a table," he took a breath, suddenly very tired, "next thing I knew…"

"We gotta heart beat!" Called the firemen who was tending to the driver.

"Excuse me," he whispered, gently pushing Sara out of his way, rushing to the unconscious driver.

Time seemed to play in slow motion. Sara watched as Hank called for a stretcher, then backed off as the others tended to the unconscious women. He walked off, pulling one of his partners with him, asking him to bandage up his wrist. The sound of the ambulance taking off with the driver brought Sara back into reality, and she walked over to Hank.

"Mind if I take over?" She asked the man who was tending to Hank. He kindly stepped out of her way.

"You ok?" She asked, sounding as though she was talking to a child who lost his favorite toy.

"Yeah… I didn't think I'd see you tonight."

"So that's what this is about," she teased.

He laughed lightly, looking down at his hand. "Thanks," he suddenly said.

"Any time." She looked into his eyes.

"Listen, I gotta get over to the hospital, and I'm sure you've gotta get back to work."

"Yeah," she said, stretching the word out, "but, will you call me, if you need anything? My cell will be on. Anything."

With that, they stood, and went their separate ways. He went to check on the victims, while she went to find out what caused them to become victims.

XX

A few hours later, Sara found herself at the hospital, talking to the driver's; who she now knew as Diane Lambert, grandson, Corey. It turned out the his grandmother hated Las Vegas, and that he had no idea what she was doing here. Just as he began to speak again, she heard that familiar voice again. Looking up, she saw Hank, bending down on one knee, talking to a woman in a wheelchair.

"Can you excuse me for a second?" She asked, but before he could answer, she was already walking away.

"Hey!" She called, just as the woman in the wheelchair was rolled off.

"Hey," he smiled back.

"And the EMT of the Year Award goes to-"

"Not me," he cut her off, "death toll's not three, could climb to four." He looked down the hallway, "Elaine," he paused, "the girl in the wheelchair, she's one of the lucky ones."

"You were amazing." Sara said, looking into his eyes.

"Eight years in the rig, first time I've actually been a part of the scene…" He waved his broken hand in a circle motion around his head, "I can't… Stop it going though my head."

"Yeah… You never know when your life is gonna change."

"Listen, I… I gotta get out of here." He said, holing her hand in his.

"You need a lift?"

"No… I drove." He let go of her hand, and started walking down the hall.

"Hank," She called, he turned and looked at her.

Be careful? You did a great job? I love you? She couldn't think of the right thing to say, nothing seemed like the right thing to say, "I'm really glad you're okay." She finally said. He simply smiled, giving her his thanks, and continued down the hall.

She watched him walk away, and couldn't help but think of how close she came to losing him. It sent shivers down her spine thinking that he was only a few seats away from death. The thought of losing him was to much for her, even though, in only a matter of hours, that wouldn't matter to her anymore. As she watched him turn the corner, something she'd said to him flashed in her mind.

"You never know when you're life is gonna change"

XX

Sighing, Sara exited the morgue. The only thing that the autopsy helped with was COD. Her head had impacted with the steering wheel, due to the absence of airbags, and busted a major artery. Doc. Robbins was unable to find any physiological explanation for the crash. And, unfortunately, Sara and the others didn't have a forensic one, either.

After taking off her coat, she headed to the lab. She took a seat, and downloaded the memory from the victims GPS. Since she wasn't local, and that she hated the place, Sara wondered if she could have possibly gotten lost. Shortly after the download was complete, Greg strutted in.

"Hey, I hear you're workin' on Hank's case." He teased.

"I believe it's my case." She replied, not taking her eyes off the computer screen.

"Ah, territorial." He said, leaning on the table from his elbows down, shaking his head "you know, guys down like that."

"You're crowding me, Greg." Her patients thinning.

"Well, I have some information that could bring us even closer."

She gave him an annoyed look. "But you first." He straightened himself and backed away a few steps. "What are we lookin' at?" He asked, pointing at the screen.

Sara explained her theory to Greg, about the possibility of the victim getting lost, and she highlighted the roads the victim took to Vegas. "Well, did she?" He asked.

"Diane Lambert, lives in Laughlin." She stood, and walked over to the larger screen.

"She took 95 north," she used her finger to trace over the line, "to Summerlin Parkway."

"Then she took Parkway to Rampart," she continued tracing, "made a left on Main Street, and headed straight to Meadows Lane. 16 north Meadows Lane."

"That's where she was going, and that's where she ended up." She finished.

"So, does that thing tell you why?" Greg said, cocking his head slightly.

"What do you have, Greg?"

"Well maybe she had the munchies!" He chuckled, unable to contain his amusement. "Tox screen came back, Mrs. Lambert tested positive for cannabis sativa."

"Grass!" Sara exclaimed.

"Grass!" Greg laughed, "so seventies, man!"

Sara just stared at him, completely shocked.

"The sticky green, the dank, the…" he named off several different, childish names for it, pausing only to take a breath, "happy stick, whacky tobacc-y…"

"Whoa, whoa, wait, wait, wait, wait! Grandma was high?" Sara gasped.

"Yeah!"

"Grandma was high…"

Greg put two fingers to his mouth, sucking in air as if smoking a cigarette, "as a kite."

XX

Sara raced down to the morgue, only to be disappointed. She was hoping to find out that Diane Lambert had been effected by the THC, but, she was only using it for her glaucoma. Sara asked if her vision could have been effected by the glaucoma itself, but Robbins simply stated that it didn't effect her driving. Once again without answers, Sara left the morgue.

XX

She entered the lab that she'd previously been in with Greg, only to find Catherine using the large touch screen.

"Hello," she greeted, slightly confused.

"Oh, hey," Catherine greeted back, glancing over her shoulder. "So, I got photos, of the restaurant patrons from the DMV database," She said as she poked each table, and picture of one of the people in the restaurant at the time would pop up, along with there name, "and impute the information per the restaurant seating chart and the police report." he voice slowed as she tapped on one table, and Hank's picture popped up. She clicked in the one in front of him, and a woman named Elaine Alcott came into view on the screen.

"Who's Elaine Alcott?" Catherine asked.

"Who?" Sara asked, squinting her eyes. Where had she heard that name before?

"Umm, well, she was seated with Hank. I just thought maybe that…" He voice got lower and lower as Sara seemed to become even more confused. Catherine immediately new what was going on, but said nothing. She didn't want to worry Sara if this turned out to be nothing.

"Anyway, um, apparently…"

Sara wasn't even listening. She looked at the photos of Hank and Elaine again, then her mind went back to the hospital.

"And the EMT of the Year Award goes to-"

"Not me," he cut her off, "death toll's not three, could climb to four." He looked down the hallway, "Elaine," he paused, "the girl in the wheelchair, she's one of the lucky ones."

"They must be friends, I saw him with her at the hospital." She said, nodding, not even aware that Catherine had been talking. That had to be the reason they were eating together…right?

"Ok.." Catherine didn't quite believe her, but she chose not to press it. "Ok, so, we've got thirty six people in the restaurant. Twelve worked for Silmont Health Care, a block away. Another ten were from the brokerage firm across the street. A couple regulars, out of towners, and the restaurant employees."

"You know how long it takes to get in touch with anyone in the Transportation Safety Bureau?" Asked Warrick Brown as he entered the room, "it's way out of hand. Diane Lambert, ran the light." He handed the folder he was carrying to Catherine.

"Wow, she sped through that intersection. Fifty two miles-per-hour!" Catherine said.

"That's more than twice the speed limit." Sara pointed out.

"Well, the tread marks tell us that her breaks did work, so it must have been something else that malfunctioned, causing it to accelerate."

"Well, the gas peddle could've gotten stuck, or, the throttle plate could've jammed." Sara suggested.

"There's only one way to find out." Catherine smiled.

"I'm on it." Sara said.

XX

Checking over the car had been a waste of time. The gas peddle was fine, and so was the throttle plate, and anything else that could have gone wrong. After she'd finished, Warrick came in and told her what he'd discovered, that the intersection caught four times as many traffic violations than any other one in Vegas. This, Sara thought, needed to be investigated.

As it turned out, the building had mirrored glass; which according to Warrick, let in the light, but kept out the glare. Could the glare had caused the crash? Unfortunately, after doing the math, they realized that the sun was well behind the trees that surrounded the intersection. Again, the were left with nothing.

For what seemed like the hundredth time, Sara returned back to the lab. Again Catherine was there. She explained that, using computer software, she was going sixty miles-per-hour by the time she hit the news paper dispenser that sat outside the restaurant.

"She accelerated into the building!" Catherine said.

An idea suddenly came into Sara's mind and, without so much as a goodbye to Catherine, she went to the morgue.Only this time. She came back with answers.

Diane Lamberts acetylcholine levels were low, and her epinephrine levels were high. Which, Sara knew, were hormones caused by stress. This suggested that Diane came into Vegas, and was very stressed about something. Perhaps planning on using her car as some sort of weapon that might end up hurting or even killing her.

"Kamikaze granny," Robbins had smiled after Sara explained how Diane's blood was similar to the kamikaze pilots of World War II.

But one question still remained. Why would she do this?

XX

"If the crash was intentional, I'm thinking that the restaurant was the target or someone inside was." Explained Sara as she and Catherine walked down the halls of the lab.

After pulling up the seating chart on the large screen, they walked over and quickly discovered something that three of the five people sitting in the front window worked at Silmont Health Care. One of them was Elaine, Hank's friend.

"Maybe I should go talk to her." Sara said.

"Yeah.." Catherine agreed, still looking up at the screen, "maybe you should.". With that, Sara left the lab. Immediately, Catherine felt bad for letting Sara go talk to Elaine. She wasn't sure if Sara knew it, but, she was well aware that Sara would probable discover something that didn't pertain to their investigation.

XX

"I'm sorry, I don't recognize her." Said the raspy, sore sounding voice of Elaine Alcott, who had a large white brace strapped around her neck.

"Well, um, could she be one of you policy holders?" Sara asked.

"It's possible, I oversee hundreds of members' accounts, I could check my list." Elaine replied as she got up from the table she was sitting at. "That'd be great." Sara thanked her.

"I wish I had some more time off," Elaine sighed, "but with Tom Crandle gone and with half of my department in the hospital, I'm back at the office tomorrow." She said as they sat down and pulled up her laptop.

As Elaine began typing, Sara's eyes wondered around briefly, but they landed on a single photo in front of her. It showed Elaine, on a beach, with a man behind her, holding some sort of fancy drink in his hand. That man looked very familiar. That man… was Hank. No, Sara couldn't believe her eyes, she picked up the photo for a closer look. No doubt about it. It was Hank.

"My boyfriend," Elaine smiled when she noticed, "saved up my miles and took him to Hawaii last year. He's taking me to Tahiti in a few weeks. I can't wait!" she added as Sara put the picture down, her heart sinking and a lump forming in her throat and tears stinging in her eyes.

"Mrs. Lambert isn't on my list," Elaine said. Sara barely heard her, finding it hard to control her emotions. "But if you want, I can go on the company database-"

"Thank you, u-um," Sara said, her voice cracking, "I-I have to…get back to the lab. Um, maybe you can call me." Her voice was almost a whisper now as she handed Elaine her number.

"O-okay," Elaine said, looking from Sara to the paper, then back to Sara.

Sara had never felt so stupid. How could she have not known? She was a CSI! She was supposed to notice things like this! How could I not have seen this? She thought to herself as she shut her car door. She waited until she was out of the driveway before allowing herself to cry. She thought he really loved her. She'd thought wrong.

XX

By the time she arrived back at the lab, she'd stopped crying, but her face was pink and wet and her eyes were red and puffy, and her stomach was felt like it was turned in knots. She wiped her face with her sleeve, and rubbed her eyes, stinging them a little. She took a deep breath, and got out of the car, hoping that no one would her sad features in the dim, pale blue halls of the lab.

XX

"Hey," she said to Catherine, faking a smile.

"Hey," Catherine greeted, a little surprised by Sara's silence. She watched her younger colleague sit beside her, waiting for an update that would never come; without her asking for it, at least. After a few moments of silence, she was a little annoyed. "So," she began, "how did it go with Elaine Alcott?"

"She didn't have anything to add to the investigation." Sara said sadly, not looking up from her folder.

Her annoyance melted into confusion. Sara was gone for nearly two in a half hours, and she'd come back with nothing? That wasn't the Sara Sidle she knew. She had a feeling this had something to do with Hank, but before she could ask, Brass walked in.

"Here are the phone records from the driver of the vehicle that you asked for." He handed the folder he'd been carrying to Sara. "You know, there may be something to that 'kamikaze grandma' theory of yours." Sara flipped the page in the folder, "last week, Diane Lambert closed out her bank accounts, paid off her credit cards, and updated her will."

"Well, that's certainly more evidence to suggest that her actions were intentional." Catherine added.

"There's only one Vegas number on this statement," Sara finally said, "and on the previous statement… there's gotta be at least eighty calls to the same number."

"Dial the number,"

Sara fished her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed the number. "Silmont Health Care, how can I direct your call?" Asked an operator. Sara looked over at Brass and Catherine, "what's your address?" She asked.

"16 South Meadows Lane."

"Thank you," Sara said as she hung up. The restaurant had been at 16 North Meadows. No way that was a coincidence. But, why did Diane Lambert feel so angry at the health company?

XX

As it turned out, Diane Lambert truly was a 'kamikaze granny'. She'd targeted the company because they weren't treating her for her spreading cancer. She didn't care about dying because of her insurance policy that would help her grandson pay for college. Unfortunately, because her death was ruled a suicide, her grandson wouldn't get the money.

As Sara and Catherine headed out of PD, Hank came into view. Just the sight of him made Sara want to scream. But that would have to wait.

"I'll meet you at the car," Catherine said, thinking to herself I'm glad I'm not him.

"I…called the lab. They said you were here." He said, stepping a little closer. "I hear you met Elaine." He stared at her, a look of fear on his face.

"Yeah, she's…really somthin'." Sara said sadly, looking down. She looked up at him, "I didn't tell her about us if that's what you were wondering." She added, noticing the instant relief wash over him.

He met her eyes again, "I'm really sorry Sara." She knew he wasn't. She felt the sting of tears in her eyes as she said, "yeah…me too."

"I don't know what else to say."

Are you serious? "I'll see ya around."

She walked out of the PD, her shoulders drooping as low possible with her hands mashed into her coat pockets. Her lower lip poked out slightly, mimicking a sad child. She was trying her hardest not to cry. Not here. She opened the car door and sat down, not looking or greeting Catherine, who was looking directly at her. She wished she could just disappear.

"Got plans?" Catherine asked after a while.

Not anymore. "Nope."

"Wanna get a beer?"

What? She finally looked over at Catherine, who instantly saw the tears she was holding back. She smiled a sad, understanding smile. She'd been there. She wanted to help.

"Drive." Sara said, feeling a little better.

Catherine pulled out of the parking lot, glancing at Sara every few seconds, waiting to see the tears fall down her face. They never came. "Any place special?" Catherine asked.

"Anywhere's fine."

If only Sara knew how much this one night out was going to change her life.

XX

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"Isn't that why we're here?"

Catherine gave Sara a look across the table. "Sorry," Sara said, sipping her beer.

"Hey," Catherine said, "you're angry, you deserve to be."

"I don't know how I didn't see it." Sara admitted, "I mean, I always thought it would be easy, that it would never happen."

"Well, it's not. At least you didn't marry and have a kid with him."

Sara looked down at her beer, seeing how Catherine had brought up her own romantic mistakes with her ex Eddie. Both took a sip of their drinks when Catherine said, "believe it or not, Sara, you're lucky. This could've ended a lot worse."

"I know," Sara said, thinking of all the scenes she'd been called to that had started with situations similar to hers.

They drank a few more beers and talked for the next two hours. "I gotta go," Catherine said, getting up from the table. "Coming?" She asked when she noticed that Sara wasn't following.

"No thanks, I'll get a cab." Sara said, wanting a moment by herself.

"Ok…see you tomorrow."

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

"Grissom?"

XX

I know it's long for a prologue, but I hope you liked it, please review! (: