Disclaimer: If I owned CSI, I would have made sure that Jorja Fox stayed on CSI. I think my ownership to the CSI is non-existant. I would have had her locked up so she couldn’t escape…Nothing suss.

Note from chloeeleanor: Hi, everyone. This is my first CSI fic, so please be nice and do the 2 R’s. Read & Review. I’m sick with the common cold, so please excuse if I ramble on a bit. Thanks guys! Also, if somebody could come up with a title, could they please suggest it to me, as I'm at a loss for the title.

UNTITLED

“Grissom….no way. No, no, Gil! I said NO!” Sara cried out, “No, I don’t wanna!” she shut her eyes, praying for Grissom to back away.

“Sara, honey, relax. He won’t bite…much.” Grissom stepped toward Sara.

Sara screamed, and tried to back away from the offending object. “Gil, I don’t want to!”

Minutes earlier, Sara had been called into the Grissom’s office, as he’s wanted to show her something. Sara had agreed, not really wanting to go into the study for a number of different reasons, but had agreed. However, she’d completely freaked out when she found out what it was he wanted to show her. Now, Sara was trying to retreat out of the room however Grissom was standing between her and the door, and going past him was out of the question.

“Sara, honey, you’re going to have to get over your fear sooner rather than later.” Grissom encouraged.

Sara looked at him in pure horror, “Gil, please don’t.” she pleaded, shielding herself away from him.

“Sara, it’s just a spider.” Grissom chuckled, but instantly regretted in as she gave him the infamous Sidle death stare.

“JUST A SPIDER?” Sara shouted.

“Mommy!! There’s a huge hairy thing in my room!” 5 year old Sara screamed, running from her room to the study upstairs, where the Sidle’s housed their B&B business.

“Sara Louise Sidle, go interest your father in your childish games. I'm busy.” Laura sneered, pushing her frightened daughter away from her leg that Sara had attached herself to.

“But, Mommy!” Sara cried.

“GO, Sara!” her mother held her fist up in the air, causing Sara to panic. She didn’t want to get punished again.

Sara ran from her mother into the family lounge room that now seemed like a garbage tip. An older Sara used to wonder if the guests what stayed at their B&B knew of the constant abuse and rubbish that lay around the family area.

Sara’s father was sitting in HIS chair, in front of HIS television. Sara had been screamed at by her father for once changing the channel whilst he was watching ‘Deal or No Deal’.

“Daddy?” Sara approached the chair, cautiously. Sara cuddled her body, putting her thumb in her mouth.

Her father groaned in reply, a glass of Canadian Club mixed with Coke rested beside his chair, half empty. Sara figured that this was his 3rd glass today as a packet of chips and peanuts lay beside the table on the floor.

Despite the fact that Sara was severely allergic to peanuts, as any contact with peanuts, whether it was from a kiss or touching her would cause her to have a anaphylaxis reaction, Sara’s father refused to give up his addiction to peanuts, leaving them astray around the house. Sara could remember dozens of times when Sara had been hit by her father after he touched peanuts, she’s had an anaphylaxis reaction and they’d had to take her to the hospital, on the way, Sara would be coached on what to say when they asked about her bruises.

“Daddy?”

“Take your thumb out of your mouth, stupid girl. I can’t hear you.”

“Yes, Daddy.” Sara obeyed what he said.

“There’s a huge hairy thing in my bedroom. I don’t like it.”

“Sara, you’re a stupid girl. It’s probably a figment of your wild imagination.” Her father replied. “Where’s this thing?” he got up off his chair.

“I'm my room, near my bookcase.” Sara whimpered.

Her father stomped up to her room, and when he saw it, he burst into laughter. “You are a stupid child. It’s only a spider. A little measly spider.”

“Daddy? Can you please get rid of it?” she had asked extra nicely, therefore, she thought that he would do what she asked, but she was wrong.

Her father picked up the spider, then shouted in mock pain, causing Sara to scream. “Daddy! Are you hurt?” she still genuinely cared for her father, even though he hurt her, he always seemed to be sorry.

He just laughed at her, and did something that would scar her forever. He did something that wasn’t a crime, but it was considered cruel. He shoved the spider in front of her face, taunting her. Sara screamed, she could see the spider’s long thin legs, beady eyes blinking at her.

“No, Daddy! Don’t!” Sara cried, she tried to run away, but he had a firm hand on her, holding her in place.

“Say hello to the poisonous spider, Sara.” He sneered.

“My father taunted me with a spider in front of my face. Inches from my face.” Sara yelled. “I was five, Gil.”

Grissom stopped, guilty as hell. He should have known. He should have picked up on the signs when Sara refused to go into his study at home. Jackson the Tarantula’s was housed there, and at work, Perry was in the aquarium beside his desk. He just figured that she didn’t want to invade his space. “Sara, I'm so sorry.” He put Perry back into his aquarium. “I should have known.”

Sara took one step forward, still very cautious of Perry staring out at them. “Gil, I don’t wanna be scared anymore. I hate the fact that even though my dad is dead, he still rules my life. I don’t want to be the dead husband’s scared, traumatized little daughter anymore. I don’t want to have to call you up when you’re attending a 419 somewhere deep in the Nevada Dessert and ask you to come home and rescue me from something as small as my palm.”

“Sara, to give you some credit, I know quite a few CSI’s on the day-shift that would scream like a girl at the sight of Perry.” Grissom said.

“Gil.” Sara rolled her eyes. “That’s not the point.”

“I want some help.”

Grissom’s eyes widened, “Some help?”

Sara inched a bit closer, “Yes. But I want you to help me. Please? But I think that Perry’s a bit too bit for a start.”

“Sara, I will help you, as long as you help me.” Grissom asked, nervously.

Sara stepped forward once more, finding herself in Gil’s grasp. “Sure, what with?”

“Well, it’s a bit embarrassing.” Grissom reddened. “I'm scared of clowns.”

Sara burst out laughing. “You’re scared of clowns? Who would have thought, the high and mighty Gilbert Grissom is scared of clowns.”

“You’re scared of clowns?” a voice piped up, from the doorway.

“Oh, he’s so dead.” Sara muttered under her breath.

“Gregory Sanders, if you are to repeat as much, I will personally make sure that the X-Files theme song is put over the PA, on constant repeat for a whole week.”

“You’re scared of the X-Files theme song?” Sara asked Greg.

“I am not!”

Grissom began to hum the song, “Okay! I'm going!” Greg quickly made himself scarce.

“So, Sara. Is that a yes?”

“Sure. Just one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“I’ve arranged for a clown to come to Anna’s 4th birthday party.”

Gil rolled his eyes, “Let’s hope that a 419 decides to appear somewhere deep in the Nevada dessert.”

“The way that Catherine talks about Lindsay’s drop-kick boyfriend, I'm sure that it won’t be a problem, considering how protective Hodges has become of Catherine. And Gil, I'm sure that I could just stand here all day, in your arms, but Perry’s looking at me and it’s really scaring me.” Sara whined.

THE END