Cassy is five.

"What happened?" Grissom asked.

"What are you talking about?" Kiera asked as she tied up her now pink streaked blonde hair.

"The bruise by your right eye," he replied.

"What bruise?"

'The one you're trying to hide with make-up."

"You just concentrate on the road, you don't need to worry about me Gil. I slipped in the shower. Anyway, I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself," she retorted, without the venom that all her replies had once had. Knowing better than to push the matter, Grissom dropped it. Since they'd met, Kiera had slowly thawed a little towards him. She was still the ice queen, but Grissom could see now it was how she treated everyone. Usually she didn't let anyone get close, however with Grissom, she'd made an exception. They were close.

When at crime scenes they could play off each other, coming up with theories and working through each one. They were an efficient team. Grissom found himself telling Kiera more and more about Cassy. However Kiera kept it strictly business between them. She never revealed any personal information, unless by accident, and as a rule, Kiera did not have accidents. Except every so often she had a mysterious bruise. Or not so mysterious if you believed her perfectly fabricated stories. Grissom guessed that a CSI was probably the worst person to be abused. They knew what a bruise looked like and what caused it, and could come up with a plausible story to cover it up. But there was no doubt in his mind that someone, or multiple someones, was beating Kara up.

XOXOXOX

"Another case solved, in record time. If you two keep this up you'll make the whole lab look bad," Brass joked. Grissom smiled. "Speaking of your partner in solving crime, have you seen her tonight?"

"No," Grissom replied. It was only fifteen minutes after their shift had started, the latest Kiera had ever arrived was forty five minutes and that was because of a car crash and a long diversion that she had moaned about for days.

"Well, looks like I'm going to have to split up the dream team then. You and Catherine can take this four nineteen downtown. When Kiera turns up I'll put her on the case too."

"No answer," Grissom said, hanging up his phone.

"Really? That's not like her," Catherine replied, climbing out of the driver's seat. "She always answers when you call." Grissom frowned, looking at Catherine's playful grin.

"What are you implying?" he asked as they climbed the stairs to the victim's apartment.

"That Kiera always answers your calls no matter where she is or what she's doing."

"So?"

"Never mind Grissom."

"Grissom, Catherine," O'Rielly greeted them. "It's a bad one. Girl beaten to death by the looks of it. No ID. Apartment belongs to Craig Martin. Coroner's been in and says it's okay to move the body."

"Thanks O'Rielly," Catherine replied, following Grissom into the apartment.

The victim's contorted body was lying in the doorway of the bedroom, face down, bloodied and beaten.

"Looks like she was trying to get away," Grissom observed quietly, pulling on a pair of gloves.

"She didn't make it," Catherine added sadly. Grissom picked a fibre from her hair, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach. Something was off. He knew it, he felt it in his bones. They worked quietly, speaking only when they found something. Grissom liked Catherine, he really did, and he considered her a friend, but he missed the banter he had with Kiera, how they bounced theories off each other, dissecting each and every one.

Grissom checked his cell phone but they were in range and there were no missed calls. Still no Kiera. Grissom stood up slowly, looking around for Catherine, when he noticed it. To anyone else, it was just a bracelet. Simple, elegant, silver ID bracelet, left discarded on the floor. As he moved closer, he saw it had been broken. Glancing back at the victim's left wrist he saw a red mark and a bruise, indicating that it had been violently torn from her wrist, probably during the beating. Butterflies began to pound in his stomach as he picked it up. Bile rose in his throat as he read the inscription. He moved back to the body as if in a dream. He didn't even hear Catherine say his name.

"Can you give me a hand?" he asked, his voice hollow. He didn't notice Catherine's worried frown as she crouched on the opposite side of the body. Together they lifted the body, so the victim's face rose to face Grissom. Time seemed to stop. The only sound was the blood pounding in his ears. Eventually he tore his eyes from the victim's face to meet Catherine's, which were filled with worry and said the two words which threatened to break his heart.

"It's Kiera."

XOXOXOX

Grissom bent to splash water on his face again, before leaning on the sink and staring at his reflection in the mirror of the CSI men's room.

"Kiera..." he whispered. She was gone. His best friend and closest confidant was gone. He hadn't recognised her immediately because her hair was scarlet red. He now remembered their last conversation.

"See you later Griss."

"Bye Kiera. Plans?"

"Sort of. Dying my hair tonight." She gave him a cheeky grin.

"Again?" he teased.

"Yep. Next time you see me I'll be a red head."

"Have fun," he called after her. She waved back over her shoulder.

Hanging his head, he blinked back tears. All those times he'd asked her about bruises or cuts, all those times and she never said anything. She could've just said something, and she would never have to go back to whoever did this to her. He would've protected her. He didn't know if Catherine was right, if Kiera had feelings for him. But he knew he loved her. Whether it was platonically or romantically he didn't know. But he cared for her, and would've done anything to help her.

But she should've known that. They were friends for Christ's sake! Apparently friendship wasn't strong enough though. Apparently he hadn't been enough to make her walk away.

XOXOXOX

"Tell me you have something," Grissom snapped, striding into the DNA lab with renewed determination. Whoever had done this to Kiera was sure as hell not going to get away with it.

"I've got something," Martin, the DNA tech, replied. "Doctor Robbins sent me up these scrapings from under her fingernails. They match an unsolved murder from three months ago. Victim was a Sophia Artez, beaten to death over in Henderson."

"And?"

"That's it. The murderer isn't on file." Martin held his breath and waited anxiously for Grissom to blow up. He'd never seen the CSI this mad. Instead, Grissom turned on his heel and marched out of the lab.

"Grissom," Catherine called, spotting him pass the break room. "Grissom!" she repeated running after him. "Hey! Where's the fire?"

"Do you have something? Because if not I'd like to get back to work," he replied, feeling the lump return to his throat.

"I miss her too," Catherine said quietly.

"Hey you two!" Brass called, leaning out of his office. "Would you be interested in coming with me to speak to a Craig Martin?"

"You have to ask?" Catherine replied.

XOXOXOX

"Make sure he doesn't say or do anything stupid," Brass said quietly to Catherine. She glanced at the determined look on Grissom's face and nodded. Brass knocked on the door and Catherine casually positioned herself next to Grissom, so she could drag his sorry ass out of there if it got out of line. The hotel room door opened slowly.

"Yeah?" the man who'd answered asked suspiciously.

"Are you Craig Martin?" Brass asked. After quickly taking in Brass' badge and the look on Grissom's face, he nodded quickly. "We'd like to talk to you about Kiera Ellison," Brass continued, waiting to gauge Craig's reaction.

"Okay," Craig replied. "Come in."

"So how do you know Kiera?" Brass asked once they were inside.

"She's my girlfriend," Craig replied.

"Been together long?"

"Few years, on and off. You know how it is," he shrugged.

"Living together?"

"Sometimes." Craig leaned back in his seat, looking up. The ceiling appeared much more interesting to him than anything Brass had to say.

"You see Craig, there's just one little thing bugging me," Brass said. "You're staying in a hotel room when you have a perfectly good apartment downtown. Why is that?"

Craig pursed his lips, meeting Brass' gaze icily.

"Problem with the plumbing," he replied eventually.

"Really? I didn't see a plumber there," Catherine said. She turned to Grissom. "Did you?"

"No."

"Why were you in my apartment?" Craig asked.

"Because Kiera Ellison was beaten to death at six thirty last night and according to reception you checked in here at seven fifteen." Brass turned to the two CSIs. "How long do you think it takes to get here from his apartment?"

"Forty five minutes," Catherine replied.

"If you think I had anything to do with Kiera's death, you're wrong," Craig told them defiantly.

"In that case you won't mind giving us a DNA sample," Grissom said.

"No way!"

"Something to hide?" Brass asked.

"You're not getting my DNA on file."

"If you're innocent, what are you afraid of?" Catherine raised her eyebrows.

"I'm not afraid. But for all I know you guys could be framing me. Or someone else could! I left my apartment at five last night, I had dinner at a friend's!"

"According to the security guard at you apartment building you left at six thirty two," Brass said.

"That guy's always hated me!"

"I wonder why," Grissom said.

"I've heard enough," Brass interrupted as Craig scowled at Grissom. "Craig Martin, you are under arrest for the murder of Kiera Ellison."

XOXOXOX

"It's a match," Martin said, handing the printout of his results to catherine.

"Thank goodness," she said. "I about had a heart attack when Brass arrested Martin. I thought it was only Grissom I had to worry about."

"I would pay to watch that interrogation," Martin smiled. "Grissom and Brass and Kiera's murderer. Wow, that would be some show!"

To Catherine's surprise, Brass was waiting for her to join him in interrogation.

"Care to help me give him the good news?" he asked.

"Where's Grissom?" she asked. Brass shrugged and, not seeing her partner, she followed him into interrogation.

Grissom stood behind the glass, watching the interrogation. For some reason he couldn't make himself go in with Brass. But at the same time, he had to see this. When he was told his DNA matched, Craig didn't look upset, didn't deny it.

"Why'd you do it?" Catherine asked.

"Stupid bitch thought she could leave me," Craig replied calmly.

"Where are you going?" Craig asked, after waking and noticing Kiera was no longer beside him. She was sitting on the end of the bed, pulling on her jeans.

"I'm going," she said simply.

"I can see that. Where?"

"It's over Craig." She stood up and began searching for her shirt. "I've found someone else. I don't know how he feels about me, or if he feels for me, but when I'm with him, I feel like I can do anything. Like I can be anyone. And I like that feeling. I'm sorry, but I'm gone."

Anger overtook him. Craig jumped up and slapped her across the face. Kiera tried to run out the door, but his fist collided with the back of her neck, causing her to fall to the ground.

"She was mine," Craig spat.

"What about Sophia Artez?" Brass asked. "Was she yours too?"

Grissom had heard enough. He left the room without looking back.

XOXOXOX

"Daddy!" Cassy cried in delight, running up to him.

"Hey Cass," he said, forcing a smile and lifting her onto his knee.

"You look sad," she observed.

"I am sad," he admitted.

"Why?"

"Because I just lost my best friend," he explained.

"Can't you find her again?"

Grissom chuckled at her childish innocence, believing that something lost could be found again. He shook his head.

"No," he replied. "No I can't find her."

"But you can find anything," Cassy argued.

"Not everything Cassy."

"Almost everything. You found my Barbie when it went missing. And you found my necklace. And you find people at work."

"I can't bring her back though," he said. Cassy frowned, trying to figure out if she could find this mysterious best friend, before wrapping her arms tightly around her dad's neck and hugging him.