Okay guys, are ya ready? Lol...this will be the last chapter I put up, so when you guys read this, you HAVE to review!!! Tell me if you guys wouldn't mind another story, because I have another one in the making...and, if you do want another one, and have some tips for me, such as 'too much corn', or 'not enough corn', then tell me! I'm open to constructive criticism. It makes you better:d First though, I want to thank the people who've reviewed me so far...you guys are awesome, always full of support, and you have no idea how much I appreciate it:D:D

And now, here you guys go...enjoy the very Sandle ending:) And tonight a new episode, 'Loco Motives' somes on...Greg better be in it!!! I mean, whats gonna happen??? Muahaha...cannot wait to find out!!!

CHAPTER 9: NARROWING SUSPECTS, HARROWING TREKS

Sara waited outside as Nick was once again speaking to Penny Callaghan about the weddings. She hadn't wanted to listen to her annoying voice any longer from the last time, so Nick volunteered to do so. She stared into the glass at the lady, wearing a Burnt Orange pantsuit today, at Nick, and at Brass who was there for his expertise at interrogating suspects. She hadn't noticed Greg had walked right up to her, and when he had tapped her lightly on the shoulder, she jumped and nearly gave Greg a mighty clop.

"Woah Sara!" Greg said, his hands and arms raised in defence. "Take it easy! I'm sorry if I startled you."

Sara let out a huge breath, and she shook, either with rage or surprise, she did not know. "Greg Sanders, you nearly gave me a heart attack!" She breathed out again, slowly, trying to calm herself, when she remembered where Greg had been. "Greg, what did you find at the caterers? Anything that links him to the cake?"

Greg nodded. "Yeah, and the seafood is a match too. It puts four of the men on the catering crew at the scene, but…somehow it doesn't seem right." Sara looked at him, but her face read that she agreed. Greg explained it just to clarify it for her and him. "Somehow, magically, foods from the wedding are placed just perfectly at the crime scene? The rest of the crime scene is clean, except for that one crumb of food that mysteriously gets placed in the porch of every scene. It occurs to me that someone is framing the caterers."

Sara sighed. "Yes, it seems way too perfectly placed for my tastes, but we have no choice. We'll bring them in, and then we can work on who really committed this crime. Maybe we'll know more when Nick is done with Ms. Callaghan here. Has Warrick told you of what we've found so far?"

Greg nodded. "Yeah, Sofia and I just stopped at the camera guys houses to gather the video stuff for him. It's odd", Greg stated, thinking back on his visit, "One of them, the oldest, had been to the hospital with a broken thumb."

"How'd he get that?" Sara asked interestedly.

"He said that when he was at the last wedding, of one Timothy and Angela Fuster, the tripod he was using came down right onto his finger. I don't buy it." Greg added, and Sara looked at him.

"Why's that Greg? What's so odd about that? Tripod's do come down on peoples fingers."

Greg stayed silent, deep in thought, but in an instant he clamped onto Sara's hand and raced down the hall with her on tow. He stopped in the break room, with a panting Sara next to him. "Greg, you fool! What are you up to?"

Greg had a huge smile plastering his face, and he started talking. "Sara, I think I have it! Let's start from the beginning. The victim's were drugged, and the wives raped, and we know it's by someone that was at the wedding. Well, I think that the key has been in front of us all along!"

Sara still didn't have a clue what he was trying to say. "I don't know…continue, what do you mean?"

"Well, the wives were raped, and videotaped!!! You know, camera's, video's…it all seems so obvious now!"

Sara furrowed her eyebrows. "Greg, you know how many creeps like to videotape their sex excursions? This isn't beyond a lot of people. That's only a hypothesis."

Greg sighed. "Sara! Give me a little more credit than that. There's more. On the video of the Weavers' wedding, the bride and maid of honour were looking really oddly in the direction of the camera, right? Well, maybe they weren't looking past the camera, but AT it! At the cameraman! When I first spoke to the caterers, the manager said that they were…" Greg flipped open his notebook suavely, "lewd, coarse people. Don't you see? They may be the ones!"

Sara now saw his point. "Greg, that's it! Nick stated that the husband reported one of the men crying out in pain…it was the camera guy. The manager of the small business, his name is…Tristan Yorkly, and you said he had a broken thumb from a tripod?" Greg nodded. "Well, he must be the guy who cried out in pain, and dropped the camera! That's why we found metal from a Kodak camera in the room…" Sara stooped for a second, and Greg started.

"The fingernail I found. It must belong to Tristan Yorkly. If we can match his DNA, then we can also link him to the crime, in the master bedroom, and when we do that, we can look for the videos. This is great!"

Sara nodded excitedly, thinking of what she had promised herself and Nick if they had solved this case. "Okay, this is great…it seems sound. Now all we need to do is prove it."

Greg stopped short. "Uh, yeah, okay, where will we start?"

At that moment, Nick walked in, with Brass behind him. "Hey, what's the cause for all the excitement?" Nick asked looked at Sara and Greg's faces, which were beaming. They told him of their theory, and thinking it over logically, agreed that it was sound. "Well then, we need to gather DNA from the camera crew, and the caterers too, just to be safe. Remember, proper procedure. They can be our main suspects, but we need to keep an open mind. I just gathered Penny Callaghan's DNA, for protocol, and I also got this information." He flipped his notebook open in the same fashion as Greg had, and began to read aloud. "Apparently, she's been in this business for sixteen years. She has her main lifelines for caterers, music crews, and camera guys. These caterers have been serving her weddings for her for about six years…that's a long time to serve someone and then suddenly turn crooked, right? The caterers haven't hired anyone new in a while either. The music crew is new, but they don't do weddings often. They only agreed to do this one because Penny's usual music crew was not able to play that day. The camera crew? Completely new. No background on them up 'til now, but here's something interesting. Seems they only do weddings that the catering crew is on…only this catering crew. Maybe they're using them as an alibi, something for the blame to fall on."

"That's why the food seemed so fake in places", Sara commented. "The camera crew were using it to frame the catering crew."

"Okay then", Brass said, "Then what we need to bring this together is DNA. Who's coming with me?"

"I'll go", Greg offered before anyone else could. "I want to get the last break on these guys myself."

Sara and Nick looked at each other, Sara nodding and confirming that this was what she had meant. "Are you sure, Greggo?" Nick asked. "I mean, you just got back from there with Sofia."

"I'm positive, Nick." Greg said walking out after Brass. "I'll be back in a short while. You guys, start gathering up all we have against these guys, and prepare to analyse the DNA we bring back, okay?" Nick nodded, but when Greg caught Sara's eye, he stopped and said, "Sar, don't worry. I'll be back in a small while."

With that, he left, and Sara and Nick were left alone. "Come on Sara, let's do as he asked us, and tell Warrick to help us. Sara?" Nick enquired to Sara, who had not answered back, or for that matter, done anything since Greg had told her he would be all right.

"Nick, what happens if he won't be back?"

Nick tsked at her and wrapped his arm about her shoulder, both facing out the door. "Sara, worry yourself . Greg will be fine, he has Brass with him…he's not alone like he was the night he got attacked. Besides, what makes you say that now?"

Sara crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't know, I'm just worried for some reason. I'm kind of…regretting…that I didn't ask him out then and there. I know Greg is tearing himself up over something now, you saw it too. I need to know that he's going to be okay."

"He will, but he'll be even better when he knows that we did what he asked. Now come on, if you do work, you'll get your mind off of him."

Sara nodded and smiled. "You're right, Nicky. Thank you." And so, they headed off towards the lab, preparing for Greg's return.

Greg knocked on the door that only a day prior had been knocked on by Sara. The same young man, Joseph, answered the door with a tired look. "Hello", was his thick reply.

"Mr. Joseph Yorkly? Hi, I'm Jim Brass, from the LVPD, and this is Greg Sanders, from the Crime Lab, I would like to come in and ask you a few questions. Is your brother home?"

"Yes, he is, but…" Joseph looked shiftily about the house. "Weren't you here yesterday?" He asked, eyebrow raised.

"Yes, but we need to ask a few more questions. It will only take a few minutes", Greg encouraged.

"Either that, or you and you brother can take a trip down to the station, and we'll look about your house anyways. You see, we have a warrant to search your house", Brass offered an alternate, yet more unpleasant way of doing things. Joseph invited them in hastily after that. When in the house, Brass followed Joseph about, looking for his brother, while Greg walked about the house. Pictures lined the wall, some of nature, and of beautiful scenery, others more provocative, more serious adult works, that were hidden in the deeper halls of the house. Unknowingly, Greg took the same route Sara had taken, and he found himself in a small office, where tapes were stored under some papers. Greg flicked on a pair of gloves, and picked them up, bagging them. Then, he saw a large bag stuffed in the corner. Greg picked it up, and inside was a container of face paint. Greg carefully bagged this too. In his mind, Greg now knew that he had the guy on the make-up and the soon to be collected DNA alone, but still he meandered on, this time walking down a flight of stairs into a basement-turned-darkroom.

Greg took out his flashlight, and started flicking about the bright white beam, searching for something, anything, that would without a shadow of a doubt put these men behind bars. He finished the flight of steps, and slowly, cast the light about in a semi-circle, scanning the room over. There were a few tubs that held the liquid for developing pictures, and lines were hung about everywhere for hanging the pictures to dry. On the far table, were cases and cases of film ready to be put through the developing stage, and the cameras were placed next to them. Greg walked over purposefully to the table with the cameras. He whisked his eyes over the cameras until he came up to one that was missing a small piece off of its corner. Next, he took out his small bottle of Luminol, and dripped a drop of its contents onto a small cotton stick. Next, he swabbed the camera all over, and with another drop, it lit up with a bright blue. There was blood on this camera. Greg smiled as he bagged the camera. He started walking over to where the tripods lay, when he felt a sharp jab between his upper shoulder blades.

With a grunt, Greg fell down with the force, dropping the camera, allowing it to slide under a table out of harms way. Greg, lightning quick, flipped over onto his now throbbing back, where he saw someone's foot coming down hard onto his chest, knocking the wind out of him. He saw in the darkness a darker shadow coming towards his face, but Greg was young and fit, and with a twist of his wrists on the attackers foot, and a lunge, he was now on top of the situation.

Greg called out as loud as he could to Brass, to anyone, for help, but he was soon flipped off again, and run into one of the walls, where he took a hard hit to the head, and was stunned. Then, he felt his face hit cold as he was forced into the developing fluid. Greg could feel his tongue taste the foul liquid, stealing his fast dwindling air even more, but he mustered his strength and after almost half a minute of struggle, he managed to finally use his arms to push himself off the tub and ram the back of the man into the wall, in turn knocking the wind out of him. The man fell, but Greg remained standing, knowing if he fell to the ground now he would get caught again. Relief poured over him when Brass and back-up rushed down the stairs, and with guns poised and flashlights pointed, apprehended the man, who was indeed Tristan Yorkly, his thumb in a more worse shape than ever after his struggle with Greg. Greg was certain that after he collected the camera, which was still under the table, and the tripod that squashed Tristan's thumb, which would hopefully contain victim DNA as well, Greg would have finally ended the horror that was the wedding crasher crisis, and get on to more important things that was on his mind.

Mere moments later, when everything was collected, and the two brothers were headed to interrogation along with their two associates that were being located simultaneously, Brass approached Greg, who had slumped himself down against the house wall, waiting to be brought back to the lab. "Good job back there, Sanders. You handled yourself well back there. Are you sure you're all right?"

Greg nodded, but his mouth burned with the acrid tasting and smelling liquid he nearly drowned in, and he was uncomfortable with his wet hair and clothes. He definitely needed a shower, and lots of mouthwash. "Sure, I'm fine. I just want to get back to the lab." Brass nodded, and offered a hand to Greg to get up, which was gratefully accepted. "You know, I phoned the lab and told them about the attack on you."

Greg groaned. Just great. "What did you tell them, and what did they say?"

"Well, I only told them that Tristan Yorkly saw you getting too close to pinning all this on them, so he attacked you, and nearly had you drowned, but that you came back and won and defended yourself."

Greg grinned at hearing this. "Wow, Brass, that was very flattering account of that, I appreciate it."

Brass chuckled. "Well, I wouldn't have told them you held your own if Sara hadn't been so worked up. I swear she was really…"

Greg looked up anxious and alarmed. "Oh no, Sara! I told her I as going to be careful and okay…" Greg groaned louder than before. "She's going to kill me for not watching my back."

Brass laughed out loud, and led Greg by the shoulder to his car. "Come on, Sanders, be a man and face up to her. I'm sure it won't be that bad."

CHAPTER 10: CONFESSIONS ALL AROUND

When Greg had gotten back from the camera crew's place, his stomach was in knots, thinking about how much Sara would yell at him when she saw him. How much she would reprimand him for his carelessness, how he should have been watching his back, and all the other things she was sure to come up with. He entered the lab, his hair still wet, and smelling of the acrid liquid that still invaded his taste, and was greeted by Warrick and Nick, who had heard also about his little incident and went there to see for themselves if he was okay, which he assured them he was, except for the awful taste in his mouth (and smell, they said to him, wrinkling their noses). They led him to the break room where they offered him a bit of their lunches and a small glass of juice to take the edge off the taste, and then sent him off to the locker room to get a shower.

Before he left, however, Greg needed to know. "Guys, where's Sara? I haven't seen her since I got back."

Nick and Warrick looked at each other. Warrick started. "Well, she's in the interrogation room now, with Sofia. She was really upset when she heard about you at the scene, and now it seems like she's on a personal vendetta against the perps."

"It's okay though." Nick assured Greg, who was thinking that Sara would do something irrational. "She guaranteed us both very much that she was going to do this by the book, for you." Greg smiled his enchanting smile, and Nick added, "You better get that shower now Greg, you'll need it for later on tonight." Greg looked at both Nick and Warrick, who were both trying to keep a fit of laughing under control, oddly, but passed it off. Maybe they knew his plans for tonight? Who knew? He shook his head as he headed for a very needed shower.

"Your DNA was in that room, Mr. Yorkly", Sara said, looking Tristan in the eye with a ferocity that no one wanted to see in Sara. "In fact, the DNA of your entire crew was found in and on the bodies of the young women who you raped!" Sara slammed the folder of the evidence on the table in front of him. "Everything points to you and your crew, Yorkly, so listen. The jigs up, no one can save you, so you may as well tell us about why you did it."

Tristan Yorkly looked at her with nothingness in his eye. He felt nothing. He felt no guilt, and Sara could see that. It chilled her to the bone, gave her goosebumps. She wanted nothing more than to find something, someone, and huddle close to them. Especially Greg. She hated this man for nearly making her life a living hell, for nearly causing Greg's life to stop, for him to stop breathing. The thought of her never being able to see his chest rise and fall in pure living motion sent her mind reeling. She looked into his face with sheer determination to find out why. "Answer me!!!"

The corners of Tristan's mouth turned into a malevolent smirk, and once again Sara's body was shaken with creepy cold shivers. "We're a small time business. We don't get much opportunity to get ahead in life. Then, we started working at weddings, and everything was fine, until we got into a rough patch. Our patrons were becoming cheaper, and in answer we met Penny, who says she needs a camera crew who works cheap. She called, we answered. So, we started working with this catering crew, and then we find that they get peeved about not getting enough of the green stuff. Well, we wanted to get revenge on the cheap bastards who always swindle us out of our rightly wages. And, well, the only way to combat our unhappiness was to take away theirs, and what better way than to ruin their wedding night? It was a perfect plan. The husbands watched and felt useless, the wives felt abused, betrayed, vulnerable, and we got a little action in the run of a day, along with our audio souvenir. We got payment that we deserved in other ways. Like I said. Perfect. And, to top it all off, we blame it all on the catering crew. Then that damn tripod burst…"

"Eh, we know the rest, you scum." Brass said, and he addressed Sara, telling her that she could go, and with a wink and a smile, she knew he also meant that she could go and search for Greg. Sara promptly got up and as she left, she could hear Brass read the man his rights. Sara walked out, and up the hall to the locker room, where she slumped down onto the benches that were placed along the middle. She placed her head in her hands distraughtly, worrying herself ragged that Greg wasn't okay, even though she knew that he had been able to hold his own against the man who was now being arrested for raping, murdering, and a host of other charges. She was repeatedly kicking herself for not going with him, not asking him out earlier, for being afraid. Nothing, she realized, was worth waiting anymore. She had realized it when Greg had been beaten up, but for the second time, now more than ever when she knew she liked him, she knew what she had to do. She raised herself from the bench, and ran to the exit of the locker room, looking for someone who knew where Greg was.

She turned the corner, only to collide with a person, and as she fell backwards, a strong arm reached behind her and caught her from falling. She closed her eyes on impact, and when she opened them again a second later, she was looking into the caring hazel eyes half hidden by dirty-blonde curls she had grown to love and look for.

"Sara, are you okay?" Greg asked as he placed his other arm around her to keep her steady, but he himself was knocked back when Sara threw her arms around his neck and gave him a very passionate kiss, pressing her lips against his. He steadied himself, and returned her passion, locking his arms behind her, keeping her close. She ended it, and shook with emotion as she leaned into his chest.

"Greg, you're okay…I'm so glad you're all right…I was…was…so scared". She hugged him tighter, and Greg was completely stunned. He had been hurt much worse when the group of kids attacked him, but she hadn't been so heart-rending to watch before. Now it seemed she could not keep her composure. Maybe she did not want to. He held her closer, rubbing one hand up and down her back trying to calm her. She finally pulled away, but she was not shamed. Greg brushed away one of the stray tears that had not made its journey down her cheek, and she smiled. Greg returned it with a bright grin, full of life, as it should be.

"Sara", he began slowly, but he was cut off.

"Greg, listen. I've been meaning to ask you a question for a long while now. Do you want to go out for dinner or something, after shift, before we go home? It's only in a half an hour."

Greg was stunned for the second time in less than five minutes, but nothing could keep back the grin that showed he was the luckiest guy in the world. "Oh, yeah, sure, that sounds great Sara. I'll meet you at your car then?"

Sara also smiled a huge smile, and nodded. They went their separate ways for the time being, and then met again ay her car a half-hour later, where they drove to the CSI's usual hangout, a small casual diner. There, Sara and Greg talked about everything under the sun, and even after Sara's emotional outbreak, everything seemed perfect. They had finished and paid for their meal, and were just talking, when Sara had remembered the whole purpose of asking Greg out.

"Greg?" She started, and Greg looked into her mocha eyes with interest.

"Mmmhmm?"

"Greg, I wanted to ask you something about this case…and about you…when working on this case, I found you were always in a daze, thinking of relationships, and your perfect marriage…it was odd…and I know there was a reason besides the case that you were thinking about it. What had you thinking about it?"

Greg blushed furiously and he looked down as he spoke, hoping Sara had not seen the red invade his face. "Umm…yeah, about that…umm, Sara?" Sara reached both of her hands over to his and held it tight, encouraging. "Actually, I was thinking of something, asking someone something. It was something I had not thought of in a while…but the case just brought it out. It actually had something to do with you."

Sara looked at him. "Had? Why is it in past tense, Mr. Sanders?" She looked at his face, which now rose to reveal the impish grin that she loved. "Greg, you were planning to ask me out?"

Greg nodded. "I just never had the guts. You were always too good for me, and I considered myself lucky just to be friends with you…and…"

Sara cut him off with a sweet touch of her finger to his lips. He relished even a simple bit of contact from her. "Greg, its odd, isn't it, that I thought the same thing? I had wanted to ask you out in the longest time too, but I felt like I could never be enough. When I heard you were attacked, I made up my mind that I would regret the rest of my life if I didn't try to make this more."

They both got up, and walked out of the diner hand in hand. When they had neared her car, Greg cupped her head in his hands, and whispered in her ear, "I want to be more if you want to be more." And he looked into her face before kissing her with all the built up emotion he had inside of him, all the time that he had waited for this moment. Sara, too, unleashed all she could into that one passionate kiss. A familiar vehicle drove by, and inside, Nick and Warrick watched with smiles on their faces as Sara and Greg finally did what everyone was waiting for. Nick looked to Warrick, and said, "This ought to make work more interesting." And they drove off, leaving Sara and Greg to lose themselves in each other.

Muahahaha...Okay, I'm a sucker for those endings...lol, remember, another story in the makings, so review or forever hold your peace...Feedback makes me happy inside:)