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Samantha had talked to Danny about her insomnia, knowing he was stricken by the same insidious fiend from time to time, and he had suggested that she talk to someone, a professional, because he knew she wasn�t religious and he had turned to his priest when things got bottled up inside of him.  But Samantha had issues with shrinks, especially the FBI psychiatrist that she had been forced to see after a case, about two months into her assignment with Missing Persons, that had led her to find the body of a child that they had been searching for.  So professional help was out, and Danny couldn�t offer much himself, though not for a lack of trying, which left Samantha tossing and turning for the better part of the night, grabbing onto hours, sometimes only minutes of sleep whenever she could, and hoped it was just a phase that would pass.

Rolling onto to her side, Samantha chanced a look at the clock beside her bed.  Six-oh-eight AM.  Her alarm was set to go off at six thirty.

�Screw this,� Samantha said, throwing back the covers and flipping the alarm to OFF before heading to the shower.  She would stop at Starbucks on the way to work, order the triple shot of espresso that sent her heart into overdrive and would leave her ready to crash around midday which was fine because Martin had a habit of bringing treats for the team from a caf� that a friend of his owned and, if he would tell her where it was, Samantha was sure she could live on their food and coffee alone.

A shower and a head-start on her caffeine frenzy later, Samantha made sure that her briefcase was packed with the files she had taken home the night before to wrap up, and then she headed out the door, eager to get to the world that she understood and had control in, because it seemed that she had lost that power when she was in her home.





Leaving San Francisco was an easy decision to make. 
He needed her, he called her personally, and then he asked her to stay when her investigation was wrapped up and her findings, sound as they were, were ignored.  She didn�t have any attachments to the city, no emotional links or real friends that she felt sorry for leaving behind.

Plus, she was doing it for
him.  That made any sacrifice worth it.

Vegas was good for Sara in a lot of ways.  She made friends with Nick and Warrick, had some laughs with Bobby Dawson, enjoyed the attention of Greg from DNA and the geeky coroner, David.  She and Catherine never saw eye to eye, though she was pretty sure that was because she was the outsider brought in to investigate someone on Catherine�s team�her family.  The fact that Warrick never held her job against her didn�t seem to matter to the red-head, nor did the fact that she never wanted to get anyone in trouble, that she was just doing her job the best way she knew how.  But not getting along with Catherine was fine.  They didn�t work cases together too often and when they did they worked well together because they were both too professional to let personal differences get in the way of putting a criminal behind bars.
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