Disclaimer: I went to that auction they held, but the price was about six digits over my limit…so they're not mine. Maybe next year… ;-P

Spoilers: As you will figure out, the first few chapters are all set during 'Butterflied'. It's all through Grissom's mind. After that you'll find out how it affects him. Thanks to everyone for joining me and, please, R&R.

---------------------------------------------------

1

Darkness surrounded him as he crept down the hallway, never wavering from the cold, dark wall at his back. With every step he felt the tension move farther and farther up his spine. The small circle of illumination created by his flashlight revealed candles everywhere and flowers, wine and glasses on a table in the living room. Each sweep of light increased his disturbed thoughts. The house was immaculately clean: almost hospital-like.

Still hugging the wall, he moved into the bedroom passing yet more candles by the door. Moving his light to the perfectly made bed, he found lingerie in a crumpled pile. The victim was surely prepared for a romantic evening. He had a feeling the night had not turned out as planned. Moving through the bedroom, he entered his destination, the only room flooded with light. The bathroom, like the rest of the house was white and very clean. The difference, though, was the crimson covering the shower and the victim on the floor.

He took in every detail of the woman, starting with her bare feet. Blue jeans that, when he got to her waist, he realized were low-rise, a red satin and lace thong and a light pink spaghetti-strap tank top made up her attire. The purposeful positioning of the body exposed the butterfly tattoo on her lower back. It wasn't until he stepped closer and looked at the young woman's face that his heart jumped into his throat.

As he knelt down, for the first time in a long time, he felt the immediate urge to throw up. He tilted his head and just stared at the woman's face. As his wave of nausea was replaced with fear and the threat of tears in his eyes, he tried to calm himself. She was outside. This was not her lying on this floor. She had no tattoo on her back and this was not her home. He could feel his blood pressure rising. He looked closer and though his eyes played tricks on him, his investigative skills won out. This was not Sara. But to an untrained eye or even a trained eye at a quick glance, it could be her on that bathroom floor. This woman was most assuredly Sara's twin.

For a few more minutes, he just stared. What if it had been her? What if the crime scene he was called to was to investigate her death? With the threat of tears still lingering, his fear turned to confusion. What if he was wrong? What if he was so tired that his eyes couldn't see that this really was Sara? Standing abruptly, his body was drawn to the front door. He had to see her.

Relief took over when he stepped outside. There she was. When her eyes met his he tried to silently plead with her. He needed her to understand, but knew he'd never be able to explain. But just looking into her eyes calmed him. His pulse slowed and his tension eased, but the need to protect her still overwhelmed him. The only way he knew how to do that was to solve this case, so he broke his gaze and turned to Brass, "For now, no one enters this house except CSI," then 'excluding Sara' he added to himself. Brass walked away and he turned back to his team. "Warrick, you got the car."

"Which one?"

"Both."

Brass interjected, "Uh, take the Honda. The VW belongs to the victim's friend over there." Pointing to a woman wrapped in a blanket sitting on a gurney by the ambulance, "She called it in."

"That's too bad," Warrick responded, "This'll be a day she won't forget." With a nod he turned away to get to work.

Grissom moved to Sara with knots in his stomach. He had to give her an assignment, but every instinct just wanted to send her home. He didn't want her here. He wanted her home, safe, away from…from what he didn't know. But he knew that he wanted her away. Knowing that he could only push her so far, though, he gave her an assignment, knowing she'd protest, "Sara, you take the perimeter."

Just as he expected, "What? You just did a one-hour walk-through. The perimeter can not be a priority."

"I need you to work the outside. Catherine and I'll be inside." Seeing the hurt and disappointment in her eyes almost broke him in two, but he knew he had to hold her at a distance or he'd never make it through this case. He reassured himself by thinking that she'd be better off never seeing the body anyway.

When his eyes moved to Catherine, she returned an all-knowing but still confused look and said, "I'll go talk to the friend."

Back in his mode, "Find out where she walked and what she might have touched in there." She nodded and he watched her walk away before turning back into what he thought would turn out to be his worst nightmare.