Title: Catherine Willows' Guide To Surviving Sara Sidle

Rating: T

Summary: Catherine and Sara are stranded in the middle of nowhere with nothing but each other to rely on for survival... whether they like it or not.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my original characters. CSI, its characters and its affiliates all belong to Jerry Bruckheimer, Anthony Zuiker and some other important people.

A/N: This story is actually a little OOC at the beginning, but I wanted to make it clear that Catherine and Sara are really at each other's throats in this fic. Obviously, Cath and Sara would never get away with having an argument like this in the lab, but for the sake of fanfiction, they do in this story ;) This fic doesn't necessarily take place at any specific time, all you need to know is that right now they hate each other. This first chapter is basically taking every single one of their fights on the show and blowing it up a hundred times. Who doesn't enjoy a little cat-fight every now and then? Also, just a note, this first chapter is a little on the long side, but the other chapters probably won't be quite as long. Regardless, I hope you guys enjoy it :)

"Cath, 419 off of Craig Road."

Well that was just the icing on the goddamn cake. As if not getting enough sleep the night before wasn't bad enough, now she had a crime scene in the middle of nowhere?

"Gee, thanks, Gil," Catherine replied, her tone stinging with venom as she snatched the slip out of his hand. "On what's supposed to be one of the hottest days in Vegas history since... when did the news say it was... '79?"

"'77, actually," Grissom replied, innocent enough. "I'm sorry Cath, but Nick and Warrick are still working that 420 and Greg had a court date. I need you on this one."

Catherine let out an irritated groan, hating the puppy dog look he was giving her. There was no one else who existed in the world who could upset her this early in the morning.

Thinking quick, Catherine tried to get rid of the case. "What about Sara? She's not working on anything."

Grissom's face lit up and for a minute Catherine felt triumphant. "That's right. Take her with you."

Catherine's jaw all but dropped as Grissom turned and walked off. "W-Wait!" she called out after him. "You're joking, right?"

Catherine and Sara had been sparring back and forth-- again-- for about a week or so now. Their last case they had worked together was a complete disaster. Sara was sure the husband had killed his wife and had gotten rid of the evidence, but Catherine disagreed-- all the evidence pointed to suicide. After Sara had her seven hundredth blow-up with a suspect she was suspended and Catherine took over the case.

Sara's blow-up with the suspect and Ecklie had gotten pretty nasty. The suspect had called Sara a "stupid little whore" to which she retorted with "dirty bastard". Catherine didn't hear what Sara had said to Ecklie, but they both looked pretty pissed off when she had stormed out of his office like a child who didn't get their way.

They hadn't said anything to each other since. They avoided each other in the hallways. If one of them was getting coffee in the break room, the other would wait until they left the room. They even refused to share the locker room at the same time. One time Sara was inside changing just as Catherine was coming onto shift, and she took once glance inside the locker room, saw Sara's bra-garbed back to her and waited outside until she left.

It was getting pretty ridiculous at this point, but both women were too stubborn to admit it.

Grissom turned around in the hallway and stopped, shrugging his shoulders. "No?"

"Gil..." Catherine tried to laugh, "You can't be serious... Sara and I aren't exactly on good terms right now." It seemed to burn her tongue just to say her name.

"Well then this will be good for you," Grissom shrugged. "For both of you. You need to work it out, right?" It almost sounded like he was going to add, "That's what you women do, isn't it?"

Catherine simply stared at Grissom as he turned and walked off, at a loss for words. Well, today was going to suck, that much she knew for sure.

With a sigh Catherine turned and headed for the locker room to change shoes. It looked like she wasn't getting out of this one, and from experience, high heels and hot, desolate, possibly rocky areas didn't mix.

As she was entering Sara was just exiting and they ran into each other. She looked like she had just shown up and was heading for the break room to get a cup of Greg's coffee.

Both women backed up a few inches and stared at each other. Once they made eye contact they immediately looked away.

"Sorry," Sara muttered, pushing past Catherine. "I should get out of your way. You don't want to set off the ticking time-bomb, do you?"

Well, there was almost no one else who existed in the world that could upset Catherine this early in the morning.

Catherine rolled her eyes. God, how long was Sara going to be upset over that stupid comment? Then again, she wasn't quite sure she would've appreciated being called a ticking time-bomb. But she wasn't about to let Sara know that.

After Sara had blown up at the suspect in the interrogation room, she had ran after her and asked her what the hell her problem was. Sara was pissed-- beyond pissed-- and flat out said that the husband was a liar. Catherine went on to tell her that she was being irrational and all the evidence said otherwise, but Sara refused to back down.

At that moment, Catherine had had a decision to make-- bend Sara over her lap and slap her ass until she stopped whining, or say something that would shut her up. Instead of smacking her silly-- which was what she really would've preferred to have done-- she opened her mouth and said she was like a ticking time-bomb with every one of her cases, just waiting to go off.

With a sigh, Catherine called out, "Sara, wait a minute."

Sara stopped in mid-step, but she did not turn around.

"Will you please turn and look at me?" Catherine asked.

Sara raised an eyebrow in confusion, but turned around as Catherine had requested. For a split second she thought she was going to be getting an apology.

"Gil put you and I on a 419 together," Catherine explained, not bothering to hide the tone of distaste in her voice as she held out the assignment slip. "Just try not to blow this one." Where the hell did that come from? Catherine asked herself internally. What, she intentionally said nasty things to hurt people now?

Sara shot Catherine the coldest glare Catherine had ever seen. If looks could kill, she would've been on Doc Robbins' slab in a matter of moments. The cold icy look on Sara's face almost scared her. Almost.

"I think that would be impossible, seeing how you've already blown everyone in the lab," Sara growled back, snatching the assignment slip from Catherine's hand. She knew what she said was hurtful, and yet there was a tiny part of her that was patting herself on the back for coming up with such a smart comeback.

Catherine's eyes widened in shock. "How dare you! Do you know how hard I've worked for everything I have?"

"Of course," Sara shot Catherine a fake smile, silent fury still evident in her eyes. "I'm sure it's been a long day at the office for you on your back."

"You bitch," Catherine hissed before she could stop it. She was fuming now, and quite frankly right now she could care less about what words left her mouth, so long as they were as hateful and as hurtful to Sara as she was being to her. "I was not a slut! And even if I was, at least I'm not a cold-hearted bitch who's so desperate for companionship she has to go and pine after her boss!"

Now, the gloves were off.

Sara's hands had been balled into fists, the assignment slip curling and crumbling under her strength. At hearing Catherine's latest insult, she lost all control. She couldn't hold back anymore, and quite frankly, she didn't think she really wanted to.

Sara rose her arm up to throw a punch, but before she could land a blow Nick was there restraining her, holding her arm back with his own.

"Sara, stop it!" Nick shouted at her, trying to hold her back as best he could, but Sara was strong.

"Let go of me, Nick!" Sara growled back, still fighting to reach Catherine. "I've been wanting to do this for a very long time!"

Catherine stared at Sara in shock. She stared at her in shock that she would actually hit her. But then again, she had often times fantasized about slapping the brunette senseless whenever they got into arguments in the past. Today was no exception.

"This is exactly what I mean, Sara," Catherine explained, glaring at Sara just as hard as she was glaring at her. "You're going to compromise the case with that horrible temper of yours!"

"How would I compromise the case?" Sara spat, still struggling against Nick. "You can just fuck the Sheriff and then everyone's happy."

This time it was Catherine's turn. She tried to take a swing at Sara, but Warrick heard Nick calling after him just in time and was able to restrain her. Unfortunately, he wasn't as quick and Catherine managed to scratch her across the face.


Everyone jumped at the voice of a very pissed off Gil Grissom standing in the middle of the hallway outside his office. Catherine stopped struggling against Warrick and Sara stared wide-eyed, absolutely mortified.

"You two better cut it out right now, or I will fire you both," Grissom informed them. Catherine knew he was truly serious by his no-nonsense tone. "Go to your crime-scene now. Both of you, take your own cars. Take that time to cool off. If Ecklie knew about this, you two would be gone by the end of shift. You don't know how lucky you are."

As Grissom turned and walked off, Catherine and Sara both shook their way out of Warrick and Nick's restraining grasps and glared over at each other. They didn't say anything, but their eyes said exactly what they were both thinking: That bitch.

Sara turned and walked off without another word, heading to the women's restroom to wash the bloody scratch on her cheek.

Catherine turned and headed off in the opposite direction to get her kit from the locker room. Once inside she entered her combination and turned the lock, opening it up.

She looked at her reflection in the small mirror attached inside. She ran a hand through her hair and let out a sigh, trying to take deep breaths to calm her pounding heart.

"Shit," she muttered under her breath.

Oh yeah, today was definitely going to suck.


Sara stepped out of her Tahoe onto the hot dry ground of the Nevada desert. The sun was scorching, her black tank top wasn't helping to relieve the heat, the air reeked of heat-rotted decomp and to top it all off, she had to work with Catherine.

It really wouldn't have been so bad if she didn't have to work with Catherine.

With a sigh Sara walked around to the trunk and popped it open. She slipped on a CSI ball cap and grabbed her kit and an extra bottle of water. She always kept one in her kit, but seeing how hot it was today, she had a feeling she was going to need it.

Sara closed the trunk and walked toward the taped-off crime scene where police officers were patrolling the area and a detective was standing interviewing the person who had found the body. Sara didn't recognized the detective and assumed he must be new.

"Sara Sidle, CSI," she flashed her badge to the officers around the tape and they granted her access. Once inside she set down her heavy kit and looked around for Catherine. She hadn't seen her yet which was perhaps a good thing.

Not that she wanted to see her.

Because she didn't.

But if she was going to be stuck at this remote location next to a rotting corpse on an 110 degree day, she'd be damned if Catherine didn't suffer here with her.

Sara started her scope of the body, placing a hand over her eyes to shield her face from the harsh rays of the sun. Even with her sunglasses on, the sun was forcing her to squint. She could just barely make out the outline of what appeared to be tire treads and thought she saw something silver trying to blind her.

She bent down beside the body and reached inside her kit for tweezers. Her hunch turned out to be right, and she smiled in satisfaction when she found that the glistening silver had been a shell casing.

Sara immediately looked up when a shadow blocked the sun from getting into her eyes. She discovered Catherine standing over her with her kit in-hand. She couldn't tell if Catherine was glaring at her because she just hated her guts, or if she was glaring because of the sun just as she had been.

"Decided to come and join me?" Sara asked, reaching inside her kit to grab a bindle for the evidence.

"Don't start," Catherine practically growled. "I got stuck in traffic. So are you going to tell me what you found or am I going to have to wrestle it from you?"

Sara snorted back a laugh at just the mere thought of Catherine trying to wrestle evidence out of her hands. She knew she would be able to win.

".38 caliber," Sara instead replied, holding it up for Catherine's inspection. "I only found one and no bullet. The bullet must still be inside our victim."

Catherine took the tweezers from Sara so she could inspect the casing herself, catching a glance of the bloody scratch just below her eye from their scuffle in the lab earlier. Her heart jerked a little in guilt, but she didn't focus on it long. "Has the coroner come yet?"

"No," Sara shook her head. "But from looking at the wound, it appears to be a single shot to the head that killed him. I'm thinking mob hit."

"Mob hit?" Catherine asked, confused. "We haven't had one of those in ages."

"It fits the MO," Sara explained. ".38 caliber weapon, single shot to the head, remote dump site, ligature marks on the ankles and wrists," she motioned toward the victim. "Several lacerations and defensive marks on the vic's hands. He was tortured and fought back."

Catherine stared at Sara for a minute, impressed. She fought the urge to compliment Sara on her analysis. After all, they were still made at each other. "Okay, so maybe it is a mob hit. Do we have any ID on him yet?"

Sara glanced around the body to find the front pocket and carefully slid a wallet out. "Johnnie Alvarez," she read from the driver's license. "He's a local."

"Yeah, a local drug dealer," Catherine nodded. "Gil and I worked a case on him recently. One of his clients mysteriously disappeared after they refuse to pay for the drugs. We suspected that he got the mob involved and had them kill him."

"And so... what? He refuses to pay up for the favor?" Sara asked. "I mean a drug dealer's got to have money."

"I don't know," Catherine shrugged. "Maybe he ran out of drugs." Sara shot her a look. "Hey, it happens."

Sara grabbed an evidence bag and set the wallet inside, sealing it up. "Well, whether the motive was money or not, his wallet is empty. It looks like they took the cash, but left the credit cards."

"Of course," Catherine nodded. "The mob is full of pros. They know credit card purchases can be traced, specifically purchases made on a dead man's card."

Sara got to her feet, dusting her slacks off as she did so. "I'll go let the detective know we may be dealing with potential mob involvement." Before she turned to leave, she added, "And incase you were worried, I won't screw this one up."

Catherine stared after Sara as she walked off to go speak to the detective and she rolled her eyes, looking back down at the body. Despite how annoying she could be, and despite how well Sara could get under her skin, she had a job to do.

"Detective!" Sara called out as she headed under the tape. "I need to speak to you."

The detective turned away from the witness he was interviewing to look over at Sara. "What is it, Sidle?"

"I think we have reason to believe we may be dealing with professionals," Sara explained. "Or, to be more specific, the mob."

At hearing this, the witness the detective had been interviewing immediately tensed and grew stiff. This didn't go unnoticed by Sara, although the newbie detective was clueless.

"The mob?" the detective asked with an incredulous laugh. "Are you serious? Why would the mob be involved in something like this?"

"That's a good question," Sara replied, staring directly at the witness who looked scared shitless. She maintained eye contact the entire time. "Do you know anything about this?" she finally asked.

The man continued to stare at Sara, as if frozen in place. He looked to be middle-aged and had a scraggly beard and dark eyes. Sara immediately focused in on the scratch under his eyes. Although then again, she couldn't really talk, seeing how she had one to match.

"Where'd you get that scratch?" Sara asked.

"Where'd you get yours?" the man asked, as if reading her mind.

"Lover's quarrel," Sara replied, saying the first thing she could think of. "Now how about you?"

The man shrugged casually. "I don't got to tell you people nothing."

"Actually Sir, if you refuse to disclose information about an ongoing investigation that constitutes obstruction of justice," the detective finally spoke up, as if reciting from a textbook. "And that also means--"

Suddenly the man had drawn a gun and had grabbed the detective, holding him by the neck in front of him as a human shield. He kept his gun pointed at the detective's head. It was a .38 caliber.

"Catherine!" Sara immediately shouted, drawing her own gun and holding it on the suspect. "Think about what you're doing," she then told the man. "If you kill us, there's not a jury in Clark County that won't give you the death penalty."

"If anyone of you tries anything funny, I'll kill him," the man warned, pressing the barrel of his gun against the detective's face.

Catherine turned around just in time to see someone holding a gun on their newbie detective and Sara holding her own gun on the man. Instinctively she reached for her own gun in her holster, but heard footsteps behind her and in a split second she was knocked upside the head and on the ground.

Sara heard the noise from behind her and turned around only to see another man standing over Catherine's limp body. "Catherine!" she instantly shouted.

The first man took that opportunity to grab Sara's gun when she wasn't paying attention. She quickly turned back around and they fought for it, but he had the upper hand and managed to deliver a hard sucker punch to her gut.

Sara gasped as she grasped her mid-section, fighting to regain her breath. The first man through the detective's body on the ground beside her, and she could tell that he was already dead.

Why hadn't they covered this in self-defense training?

"What the hell, man?" the second assailant-- the one who had knocked Catherine out-- was berating his partner. "You could've got our asses thrown in jail, you fucking idiot!"

"It's not my fault!" the first man insisted. "If I hadn't been sent with a shitty crew, then none of this would've happened, and the goddamn cops wouldn't be here right now!"

Sara watched the exchange, and now both men were in each other's faces, fighting like an old married couple. She waited for the right moment, calculated the angle, and then...

...She swung her leg up and nailed the second man right in the ribs as hard as she could. He collapsed, howling in pain, and Sara took that chance to run toward Catherine's fallen body to make sure she was okay.

As she was running she heard gunshots behind her, and felt a burning, stinging pain in her side, but didn't focus on it. It must've been a cramp.

Once she reached Catherine she shielded her body with her own and grabbed her own gun, taking aim. When she zeroed in on the first man who was trying to reload his own gun, she took a shot and hit him square in the chest. A pretty damn good shot if she did say so herself.

She then turned her attention to Catherine who was still lying in the middle of the ground, completely limp. She tried to shake her awake. "Cath, Cath, come on! Wake up!" But she didn't show any signs of waking up anytime soon.

"Shit," Sara cursed, panic starting to prickle at her brain. She was surprised it had taken this long for her to start panicking. Without thinking too much of it she slapped Catherine across the face-- fairly hard. She had to get her to wake up somehow, and besides, it might've been the only chance she ever got to slap her.

Catherine started to stir when the pain in her cheek began to register in her brain. She cracked her eyes open and stared up at Sara. "S-Sara? What the hell..."

"You bitch!"

Sara immediately jumped and turned around to see the second man staggering to his feet. Oh how could she have already forgotten about him?

"Stay back!" Sara shouted, carefully watching his movements. "I'm warning you!"

It was obvious the man wasn't going to listen to her. It was even more obvious when she saw that he was reaching for a gun that was on the ground.

But Sara was faster, and before the man even had a grip on the weapon Sara had shot him. He fell on the ground beside his partner and was dead almost instantly.

Sara stared at the two dead men on the ground, feeling her heart pounding violently. Her eyes widened at the realization of what she had just done. She just killed two people. She shot them dead without even a second thought. She took two people's lives.

Her gun fell from her shaking hand onto the dirt. She tried to fight her body going into shock. She felt faint and nauseated. The earth under her began to move, and she started seeing dots dancing in front of her eyes.

A loud groan from Catherine brought Sara to her senses and she immediately turned her attention back to her. "Cath? Are you okay?"

"The son of a bitch hit me on the head," Catherine muttered, wincing as she touched the giant bump on her head. It was already surrounded by crusted-over blood.

"Yeah, you were unconscious for a while," Sara nodded. "I think you have a concussion. What's your full name?"

"What the hell?" Catherine winced, shutting her eyes tightly shut against the glare of the sun. It was just making the pounding in her head ten times worse. "Am I on a game show?"

"Answer the question," Sara snapped. "What's your full name?"

"For Christ's sake, Sara," Catherine groaned. "Okay, okay, fine. Catherine Elizabeth Willows."


"Las Vegas, Nevada."


"Crime-scene investigator for the Las Vegas Police Department."

"Favorite color?" Sara was just messing with her now.

"You have got to be kidding me." Catherine was not amused.

"Okay, that time I was just messing with you. Do you remember what happened?"

"I don't have a damn clue about what happened after I got hit, but I know what I'm going to be doing if you don't cut to the chase," Catherine hissed.

"Okay, relax, I was just joking," Sara rolled her eyes. "I was just checking to see how serious your concussion is. But judging from the bitchy look you're giving me, I'd say you're going to make a full recovery."

Catherine shot Sara a glare, but the pounding in her head kept her from saying something smart. "You win this round."

Sara smiled in triumph. "Good to know. I'm just going to go grab my radio from my truck and call for help, okay?" Catherine responded with a half-hearted nod, keeping her eyes closed.

Sara got up and headed for her Tahoe. She winced and grabbed her side, stopping to lean against the trunk once she made it. She didn't know why, but that damn cramp in her side was flaring up again, badly. She couldn't remember doing anything to cause a cramp, and she didn't think she had pulled anything, so why would she...

She pulled her hands away and noticed the blood for the first time. Oh, that was why.

Sara's eyes widened as she noticed the bullet hole in her side. The blood had been camouflaged by her black tank top. But why hadn't she felt the pain when she was running around and shooting down evil mobsters? She settled on having a different threshold for pain and adrenaline.

"Sara, what's taking you so long?" Sara heard Catherine's groan.

She rolled her eyes. "I'm coming, just hold on a second." Opening her trunk up, she saw the small first-aid kit she always kept on hand. Then, walking around to the cab, she opened the door only to discover the cord to her radio had been cut. "Damn it," she muttered. Slamming the driver's side door, she then noticed the gas tank had been slashed.

Sara quickly jogged over to Catherine's Tahoe only to find the same thing. She glanced over at the police cruisers but even from a distance she could see the puddles of gas underneath.

"Oh, shit." This was just perfect.

Sara turned to head back over to Catherine, but stopped herself. Catherine was hurt and she didn't know how badly yet. She had a concussion. Then, she looked at herself-- she had been shot in the side. She couldn't tell how badly she was bleeding because of her dark tank top. The pain was bad, but not unbearable. She was pretty sure she could take it.

And in the event that something happened, one of them had to be able to move. She knew that if she were to show Catherine the gunshot wound, she would freak out.

She reached inside her trunk and grabbed her CSI vest, zipping it up over her tank top. It would help to cover the blood and the giant hole in her side. Catherine would never know.

She headed back toward Catherine who was still laying on the ground and she tried to walk as casually as possible despite the pain in her side trying to flare back up. Once she was by her side she sat down beside her on the ground and opened up the first-aid kit.

"Did you call for help?" Catherine mumbled.

"Uh, bad news, Cath," Sara told her, grabbing some gauze and a bottle of rubbing alcohol. "Our radios have been cut and the gas tanks on all of the vehicles have been slashed."

"You're joking," Catherine immediately said, thinking this must be some sort of sick Sara joke.

"No," Sara shook her head. "I need you to turn your head so I can clean your bump."

"You mean we're stuck out here until someone realizes that we're missing?"

"Yes. Now can you please turn so I can clean your wound?"

"On an 110 degree day in the middle of nowhere next to a rotting corpse?" Catherine continued, sobering up. Her concussion was nothing compared to the thought of spending the entire day out in the heat out stuck with Sara.

"Yeah. Turn your head."

"I can't believe this!" Catherine exclaimed. "Just because Gil didn't listen to me. I have seniority, I shouldn't have to put up with this crap!"

Sara couldn't take Catherine's whining anymore and her side was beginning to burn like hell. "Jesus Christ Catherine, yes! You're stuck out in the middle of goddamn nowhere with the one person who you hate the most in this world. Grissom has formed a pact with God and together they are punishing you. Now turn your head around so I can clean your damn bump!"

Catherine roughly turned her head to the side and instantly regretted it. The bump on her head wasn't very forgiving, but she wasn't about to let Sara know that.

Sara cleaned the bump on her head in silence except for the occasional "sorries" when Catherine winced. She cleaned away the dry blood and dressed the bump with a white gauze, ripping a piece of tape off with her teeth. Once it was in place, she sighed, leaning back on her haunches. "Okay, I think you're good."

"Thank God," Catherine muttered, rolling over to try and sit up. She managed to get into a sitting position fairly easily. This wasn't so bad and she only felt a little dizzy. She braced herself and began to get to her feet, but a sharp pain in her ankle told her otherwise and she all but fell into Sara.

"Cath?" Sara quickly asked, catching her before she could fall. "What's wrong?"

"I think I twisted my ankle or something," Catherine winced, squeezing her eyes shut at the pain. "It really hurts."

"Let me see," Sara told her, and without asking for permission removed Catherine's shoe and rolled her pantleg up over her ankle. She grimaced when she saw the blood.

"So?" Catherine asked, trying to act casual. "How bad is it?"

"Uh... well, Cath, the good news is you didn't sprain it..."

"So I can walk?"

"Not exactly," Sara bit her lip. "It's not a sprain. You were stabbed."

Catherine's eyes immediately went wide. "What did you just say?"

"I said you were stabbed," Sara repeated. "You're not going to be walking on that ankle anytime soon."

"How do you know it's a stab wound? It could just be a cut." Talk about denial.

Sara sighed in frustration. "Because I know a knife wound when I see one, okay!?" Glancing around them, she spotted a bloody knife a few feet away. "I guess when you were knocked over the head, you were stabbed too."

Catherine stared at Sara, resisting the very strong urge to ask how she knew so much about knife wounds. Instead, she said, "Okay, well that's just great. What are we supposed to do?"

"Well, we can't just stay here," Sara told her, wiping some sweat away from her forehead. "It's only going to get hotter, and for all we know the suspect's buddies are on their way over." She unclipped her cell phone from her belt and checked for a signal. "And I've got no signal out here, so we have no way to call for back-up."


"So I would say the best thing for us to do is to try and head for the road. I remember which direction it was in when I drove up, so we should head that way. Maybe a car will drive by."

"Sara!" Catherine snapped, quickly losing her patience. "You have blood on you."

Sara blinked, looking over at Catherine. She then remembered that she still had blood on her hands from when she had examined her own wound, and when she wiped her forehead she must've got some on her. "Oh, it's nothing," she waved it off. "I think it's yours. You know, from your ankle."

"Are you sure?" Catherine was suspicious, and despite how much she was trying to deny it, she was concerned. "You're not hurt?"

"Just a few scrapes and bruises, really," Sara shrugged. "The most important thing is I can walk."

Catherine quickly caught on to where this was going. "You can't be serious... you can't be planning to carry me."

"It's our only choice," Sara told her. "Do you have a better idea? Because you're sure as hell in no condition to be walking right now, and if we stay here any longer we could be mob bait. Any suggestions?"

Catherine stared at Sara, unable to come up with anything. The truth was, Sara was right. She couldn't walk with her ankle the way it was, and if they stayed there to wait for back-up they did run a very good chance of getting gunned down by the suspect's friends. "Okay, fine."

Sara was shocked that Catherine actually complied, but felt a little triumphant nonetheless. "Okay, good. I'm just going to bandage up your ankle, and then we can get going."

Grabbing some more gauze and bandages from the first-aid kit, Sara felt a sharp pain in her abdomen and winced, trying to hide it from Catherine. Luckily her eyes were closed to shield them from the sun.

If she was going to be carrying Catherine around on her back, she wouldn't be able to go very far with a bullet hole in her side, and as much as she hated to admit it, the pain was beginning to become close to unbearable. She had to think of something fast.

Then she spotted the bottle of pills in her first-aid kit. They were strong painkillers prescribed to her years earlier after the lab explosion to help the pain in her hand. She hadn't needed them, so she still had an entire bottle full.

She looked down at the label. Six pills. She had six pills, and could take them when she needed them. She grabbed the extra water bottle next to her kit that she had brought with her and shook out two pills from the bottle. She swallowed them in seconds.

Catherine hadn't appeared to have noticed. Satisfied, Sara went to work bandaging up her ankle.

This could work.