Disclaimer: The characters contained within this story do not belong to me (I really wish they did though, did I mention my birthday's coming up? lol)

A/N: This is my very first ever fiction, it just came to me, so please be nice! Comments and pointers would be greatly appreciated! Please R&R! Also, I don't have a beta so if you catch any mistakes, tell me and I'll be happy to correct them.

Chapter 1: A Rose By Any Other Name

The warehouse was old, dirty. The windows were vandalized. The floor was covered with dust, save certain spots throughout the room where footprints were visible. The door to the warehouse had been bolted when they arrived. There were wooden crates stacked on either side of the long room. One way, in, and one way out, as long as you didn't just climb out one of the windows. A pool of blood in the center of the room and some drag marks leading away from it were the only source of color in the room.

The blood's fresh, but it smells like something had a few days to decompose, noted Grissom with a sigh, this would be a long night.

"What do you think?" Brass asked, walking up behind him.

"I think someone was murdered and dragged of," replied Grissom matter-of-factly, pointing to the pool of blood and the drag marks leading away from it. "Who called this in?"

"Some kids, they were snooping around, said they had heard some ghost stories about this place or some other bullshit. The kids were around fourteen and fifteen, so if you ask me, they just came here to vandalize the place a little more, a cheap thrill." Brass paused, shining his flashlight across the deserted room, the light reflecting off the broken shards of glass hanging from the windows. "So anyway, the kids came in through the window, saw the blood, smelled the decomp, ran away and called us. What do you think?"

Catherine walked up behind Brass, "I think that we might be looking at a double murder, one person killed, starts decomposing, killer brings in another vic, kills that one drags both of them away."

"Pretty good theory," said a slightly impressed Grissom, "Now let's find some evidence to back it up." He shined his flashlight into one of the blood trails, following it across the warehouse. Brass walked back outside to speak to the kids who had found the blood again.

Catherine followed the second blood trail into the sea of crates. She had to stop almost as soon as she started through the crates. "The blood trail stops where the crates begin," she called out, bending down to examine the blood trail's abrupt stop. "Someone took some time to stack these crates on top of the trail. I've got a feeling that we'll find the source of the smell once we remove them."

Grissom wandered over from the other side of the warehouse, "I've got the same problem over there," he said, shaking his head, "Someone did put a lot of time and effort into moving the crates. And each and every one of them is a piece of evidence." Catherine groaned.

"Great, so first we've got to move the crates, then we've got to haul them all back to the lab? Just great!" Catherine stomped her foot, "Where are the guys? Did you call them?"

"Warrick and Nick just finished up that college dorm case, and Greg just finished admitting the rest of his evidence, they're on their way as we speak, I told them to high tail it over here." he answered, flashing her a questioning look at her sudden outburst.

Offering no explanation for the outburst, Catherine set her kit down and walked outside, breathing in the warm summer Nevada air. A welcome relief after the smell of decomposing body. She looked hesitant before she asked the question she had been leaning towards. "Where's Sara, is she coming?" Catherine asked in what she seemed to think was a nonchalant tone of voice.

For a split second, Grissom looked startled at the mention of Sara's name. But he quickly recovered, starting to collect blood from the pool on the floor, "Um, no. Sara asked me yesterday if she could take the day off, something about needing some time alone to think. She seemed a little upset," Grissom walked out of the warehouse, tucking a used blood swab into an evidence bag as he came, "Why?" he asked, in an equally feigned tone of voice.

A rare look of guilt passed over Catherine's confused features, "No reason, I just didn't see her today and I wondered if she was coming." Catherine shrugged, turning towards the SUV that had just pulled into the lot.

"We're not understaffed tonight so it's unlikely I'll have to call her in," Nick, Greg, and Warrick climbed out of the SUV, "Is there something going no between the two of you, a fight of some kind perhaps?"

Catherine winced, Grissom had hit the nail on the head, as usual. She turned to face him. He waited for a reply, knowing that he'd guessed the source of the problem correctly. "It's nothing, really," she added seeing his look of doubt, they both knew perfectly well that when Catherine and Sara 'argued' it was an all out war, "She was just acting a little weird, we were both having rough nights. I'll be the first to admit that I was out of line, and the second I see her again I'll apologize. There is just so much going on right now with Lindsey, I was stressed, she was an easy target." Grissom gave her a look.

"Okay, so I heard something about some crates and you two needing a strong man to get them out of the way for you?" Nick walked up to the warehouse entrance where Grissom and Catherine were standing, rubbing his gloved hands together. Warrick and Greg followed.

"Not that you're not strong or anything Gris," Warrick said, smiling.

"I'm going to just pretend that you two aren't making jokes at my expense and move on. Nicky, you're with me, we'll move the boxes on the left, there are a lot less of them so we can manage with just the two of us. Catherine, Greg, and Warrick, you three take the right side." Grissom donned a fresh pair of gloves and headed towards the crates. "The only crates we'll move and mark at the moment will be the ones that are on top of and within a foot of the blood trail. Any questions?" There were none. Grissom didn't seem in the mood for joking at the moment, and after hearing of Catherine and Sara's little fight, he seemed to be too deep in thought for anyone to bother him.

After about an hour of shifting crates, most on either side of the room had been relocated away from the blood trail. It was hard work, but not because the boxes were heavy. It was hard trying to be sure the blood evidence was preserved.

In the hour that they'd been working, it had been silent. In the first few minutes, Greg made some futile attempts at conversation, but soon gave up altogether, occasionally humming a tune to himself.

Nick called out once, after noticing writing on one of the crates he was moving, "It says: That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet. What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Everybody looked at Grissom.

"That is a line from Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet. I don't know what it's supposed to mean. Maybe our killer has a sick sense of humor." After that, everything went silent again until another hour had passed.

"We've got a body here!" Nick called out again suddenly, startling everyone, Grissom almost dropped the crate he was carrying, "Get David in here!"

Mere minutes later, the young coroner strode through the door. "How'd you get here so fast?" Greg asked, taking a drink of his water.

"I've been here, I was just waiting for the body," he replied, letting Grissom lead him in the direction of the body.

"While you're checking out the body, I'm going to get some fresh air," Grissom showed him the body and walked outside.

A chorus of "me too's" followed Grissom's statement, leaving only Catherine and David alone with the corpse. It was face down, fully clothed, with no visible head trauma, gun shot, or stab wounds. "All of the damage must be to the front of the body," David noted, "Caucasian female, hasn't been dead for more than six hours from what I can see at this point."

"Let's flip her over, see what else we can find?" Catherine said jokingly, after a couple hours of silence she was in a much better mood.

David tucked his gloved hand under the victim's stomach and pulled, flipping the body over. The front of the body and the face was now visible.

David stifled a cry, standing up and backing away. Catherine couldn't think straight she felt all the blood rushing to her head. Unlike David, she was unable to contain her horror at the sight in front of her. A scream escaped from her throat. It broke the silence of the night like a gunshot would. She didn't stop with one scream, she couldn't.

Police cars were off in the distance, securing the perimeter. Brass was long gone, having left hours earlier for another case. So after they had left Catherine and David with the body, the guys were all alone outside as they went their separate ways. Greg, Warrick and Nick went to the SUV to get more water and relax for a few minutes, while Grissom took a little walk. He didn't walk far, just around the warehouse. If anyone asked, he was looking for evidence. Grissom had so many thoughts on his mind at the moment, he couldn't even begin to sort through them. That was happening more and more since Brass was shot and had nearly died.

Grissom was just beginning to get some sort of control over his own thoughts when he was interrupted by a piercing scream. Without considering what might have happened, he dashed back towards the warehouse entrance. The other three, having heard the scream as well, were at his heels.

Tears were streaming down Catherine's face and the young coroner looked horrorstricken, small cries of anguish escaped Catherine's throat through her sobs.

"What happened?" Warrick cried, running to Catherine, holding her with the intention of calming her. He followed her gaze to the corpse, "Oh my god….." was all he was able to let out.

Greg and Nick were already looking at the corpse, Greg was shaking his head slowly, Nick clamped his eyes shut as if to block out the image. Grissom inched forward cautiously around the crates that were still blocking his view. He was dreading what he would see. He made it around the crates that had been blocking his view of the body, and when he saw what the others had been staring at, a wave of numbing cold washed over him.

Sara Sidle's lifeless eyes were staring up at him.

To Be Continued……..