XX –  RICKI LAKE

"Lynds – honey, I know that I've been working all night and all morning, but I need to stick around for a while longer yet and -"

Catherine paused and looked at Warrick, grimacing when the little girl cut her off.  Warrick smiled in sympathy, and nodded at Grissom as the older man walked into the break room.

"Sweetheart – maybe we can go get a dog tomorrow; or -"  she sighed again, and rolled her shoulders, trying to alleviate the sudden tenseness, and Warrick noticed the sheen of tears in her eyes, "Of course I love you honey, it's just that - -"

Warrick held out his hand, "Let me talk to her for a second, Cath."  His tone brooked no argument, and Catherine merely looked at him before handing him the phone.  "Lyndsey, it's Warrick.  Just hold on a second."  Covering the cell with his hand, he looked at Catherine.  "You really going to let her get a dog?"  Catherine nodded.  "Tell me the rules, and I'll take her.  I can meet you back here afterwards."

"Warrick – I couldn't ask you to do that."

"I'm offering."  He uncovered the phone, "Lynds – would it be alright if I took you to look for your dog?  I can come and get you now, and we can go. Would that be good?"  He smiled at Catherine and held the phone away from his ear so she could hear the little girls excited squealing.  "Yeah – but listen, Lynds – I think you have something to say to your mother before I take you anywhere.  You know what I'm talking about?"

He handed Catherine the phone and waited patiently for her to finish up the call, before turning to Grissom who was standing just inside the break room, gazing absently at the microwave.  "What's up, Grissom?"

"Oh.  Uh – Brass came and told me you were pulling doubles.  I told Greg to go home, and come back tonight.  I was going to – ah… If you don't need me for anything, I thought I'd go to apologize to Nick."

Catherine, who had taken a moment to dab at her eyes, turned to smile gently at her friend, "That's a good idea, Grissom.  You were unusually hard on him, and his theory really is a good one."

Grissom sighed, and stepped into the room another foot.  "I know.  I overheard him telling you in the hallway, and then Brass also gave me the lowdown.  After Sara yelled at me and left."

Warrick tried not to smile at Grissom's carefully neutral expression and the banked distress in his eyes, "She told you off, huh?"

Grissom nodded miserably, "She said…she said I made Nick feel worthless.  She implied I make her feel – worthless – too."

"You do tend to take them both for granted – Nick does a lot of the grunt work around here, and Sara…what is going on with the two of you?"

Grissom didn't say anything, but both Catherine and Warrick noticed the way his attention dropped immediately to his hands.  Catherine sighed and stepped closer to Grissom, placing a hand on his arm.  "Maybe I should rephrase that – what do you want to be going on between the two of you?"

"I don't – there's nothing – I'm her boss, and she's quite a bit younger than me and-"

"Big deal."

Grissom paused and looked at Warrick.  "Pardon me?"

"Big deal," Warrick grinned as he said this, making a 'pffting' hand.  "Age is irrelevant – if anything, this case we're currently working on should have shown you that.  So, you're her boss – do you think we care?"

"But -"

"Gil," Catherine interrupted, "Why won't you let yourself be happy?"

Grissom looked at Catherine, eyes belying the sudden pain her words caused, before they carefully blanked.  "I'm happy."

"No," Catherine disagreed, "you're not.  But you could be.  If you weren't so used to being lonely."  Turning to Warrick, who was standing behind Catherine smiling at Grissom sympathetically, she smiled at him.  "Before you take Lyndsey to find the animal that will demolish my house, can you drop me off at the salon.  I need to speak with the stylist before Marta shows up."

* * * * *

Grissom was still standing in the break room when Greg stuck his head in the door five minutes later.  "Griss.  Grissom.  You alright?"

Grissom turned to the younger man, face carefully neutral, before sighing.  "What are you still doing here?"

"Forgot my new Pink CD in the lab, and wanted to listen to it on the drive home.  I'm sacked, man."

Grissom nodded absently at the younger man, lost in thought.  Greg waited for a moment, expecting Grissom to say something to him, before rolling his eyes and heading down the hallway.  "Okay, whatever.  See ya in a few hours."

He was almost to the doors when Grissom stopped him.  "Greg!"

"Yes, Grissom?"

Grissom half-jogged down the hallway, "Do you know where Nick lives?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do."  He looked at Grissom skeptically.  "Are you telling me you don't?  Didn't you drop Sara off at his place yesterday or something?"

Grissom shrugged, embarrassed.  "Yes.  I did – but she gave me directions.  I forget how to get there, and I need to talk to him."

Greg pursed his lips together, "He's worked for you how long, Grissom, and you don't even know where he lives?  Do you know where I live?" 

"What does that have to do with anything?"

Greg sighed, and headed out into the parking lot, trying hard not to lose his patience with the older man.  "Nothing, I guess.  I mean, it's not like you and I are friends or anything.  From what I heard about the conversation you had with Nick today, it doesn't sound as if you think too highly of him either, so why should I be surprised that you don't know -"  He snapped his lips shut tightly, and looked at Grissom suspiciously.  "Are you going to yell at him some more, or are you going to apologize?"

"What business is that of yours, Greg?"  Grissom snapped back, peevishly.

"Absolutely none.  See you around Grissom."  Greg unlocked the door to his car, and slid into it.  Before he could slam it violently, Grissom grabbed it.

"Are you going to tell me where he lives?"

"You have access to 'employee' files.  Go look it up."

"Greg -"

"Greg what?  You know, Grissom, Nick's my friend.  He's a great guy.  He cares about everyone who works at the lab – genuinely cares.  He talks to us even when he doesn't need information from us.  When we're upset, he notices.  When we're down, he tries to cheer us up.  He always has a minute to listen.  And he sticks up for you all the time -"

"Sticks up for me?"  Grissom interrupted.

Greg nodded, "Yeah.  You – Grissom.  I was ready to quit a few months ago because of you.  Nick talked me out of it."

"You were going to quit?  Why?"

Greg rolled his eyes, "You always come into the lab, demanding this or that; but you never say thank-you.  You never tell me I've done a good job on anything you've ever requested of me.  But the day I almost quit was the day you gave me foot fungus as an experiment, without asking my permission first.  I was pissed.  Nick calmed me down.  Told me you didn't realize it would upset me – that you were just so passionate about the science that it sometimes got in the way of the people.  But he told me I would regret it if I left – he said, 'You'll never have the opportunity anywhere else to work for someone as brilliant as Grissom.  You can learn a lot from him, Greg.  And the biggest thing you should know right off the bat – if Grissom didn't think you were good at what you did; if he didn't respect you; you wouldn't be here.  He likes to surround himself with intelligent people.' "

Grissom looked honestly taken aback, "I'm sorry, Greg.  I didn't realize – I guess I just take for granted -"

"Everyone."  At the sudden hurt expression on Grissom's face, Greg sighed and reached across to the passenger side of his car, opening the door slightly.  "You do.  I'm even starting to get used to it.  So – you going to get in?"  At Grissom's confused look, Greg grinned.  "I'll take you to Nick's.  He can bring you back to the lab later."

"What made you change your mind?"  Grissom asked, as he slid into the empty seat beside Greg.

"I hurt your feelings.  Which means you actually have feelings; ergo, Nick has been right about you all along."  Greg shot a sideways glance at Grissom, grin still firmly pasted on his face. "He doesn't hold grudges, Grissom.  I'm glad you're going to apologize to him.  Can I give you a little hint? Ask him how his correspondence courses on Ornithology are coming along."

* * * * *

"Shouldn't you be trying to cheer me up, instead of the other way around?"  Nick teased Sara gently as he handed her a fried tomato sandwich. 

"You don't seem to be taking it too badly," she murmured ruefully.  "Much better than I thought you would be, all things considered."

Nick shrugged, and plopped down onto the sofa beside her, throwing his feet up on the coffee table.  "If I thought he actually meant it, I'd be upset.  But I know he doesn't really think that way – if I was really stupid, I'd never have made it to CSI level III, and Grissom would have forced me out a long time ago."  He nudged Sara's knee companionably with his own, "Besides, he was just lashing out.  He thinks I have you, and it's killing him."

"He doesn't think that any more," Sara muttered darkly. 

Nick cocked an eyebrow at her, "No?  Did you tell him the truth?"

Sara grimaced at the delighted grin on his face.  "I was pissed off at him for yelling at you like that, so -"

"You barreled into his office, read him the riot act Sidle-style, and than blurted out the plan.  Once again, Super Sara rises to champion the underdog!"  Throwing an arm around her shoulder and squeezing it, he batted his eyes at her and simpered, "My hero!"

Sara laughed.  "You are such a goof!"  But she didn't shake his arm off her shoulder. 

Nick grabbed the remote with his free hand and flicked on the TV, flipping randomly through the channels.  "So – what did he say when you confronted him?"  No reply.  "Sara?  What did he say?"

"Well – uh…"

"You didn't stick around to find out, did you? You're almost as bad as Grissom is."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Finally, an opportunity presents itself for you and Grissom to really talk – to lay it all out on the line – and what do you do?  You come running to me."

Sara nudged him in the ribs with her elbow, "I didn't come running to you."

"No?"  Nick replied.  "Then explain what you're doing here with me, when you could be back at Grissom's office – or better yet -  his townhouse - resolving the attraction issues you two have."

"I already told you what I'm doing here – I wanted –"

"To see how I was doing, yeah, yeah.  I know."  Nick shook his head, smirking when Sara blushed.  "Admit it, Sidle.  You were scared."

"I was not scared."

Nick snorted.

Sara sighed, "Okay.  Because it's you – maybe I was a little bit scared.  You're the one who convinced me to go along with your little charade.  You're the one who convinced me that Grissom just needed a little prodding in the right direction.  You're the one who convinced me -"

"That Grissom loves you.  He does, Sara," Nick smiled.  "Who wouldn't?"  Tearing his eyes away from the TV, he smiled at her.  "Everyone loves you.  You're a very lovable person."

This time, it was Sara who snorted, "Yeah.  I'm lovable all right.  Like a rabid porcupine is lovable."

"So you're a little prickly sometimes.  Big deal.  It's part of your charm.  Hey look – Ricki Lake!  What's the show today?"  Turning the TV up, he started laughing when the show title flashed across the bottom of the screen, " 'Unavailable Men and the Women Who Love Them'  – this could be educational for you."

* * * * *

"Are you sure this is the dog you want, Lyndsey?"  Warrick looked at the small puppy dubiously.  The high-pitched yips of the little mutt were going right through his head.  Turning to the helpful ASPCA employee, he asked, "What type of dog is this again?"

The young man grinned at him, "As near as we can tell, it's got some Dachshund, some Yorkie and some Miniature Poodle in its' background."

"How big will it get?  We have specific rules about sizes – her mom will kill me if I bring her home a dog that'll grow larger than mid-calf."

The younger man crouched down on his haunches besides Lyndsey, rubbing the puppy's tiny head affectionately.  "This little thing?  She won't even get that big.  8 - 10 pounds, max.  She's got all her first shots, and you can bring her back to have her spayed when she's old enough.  Part of the adoption fee."

"You sure this is the one you want, Lyndsey?  I mean, you haven't even looked at any of the other dogs."

Lyndsey shook her head, her blue eyes widening dramatically, "Please, Uncle Warrick!  She's perfect.  She's lotsa different colors, and she's little and her tongue is ticklish."

"Okay, then.  Wanna call your mom?  I told her you would.  I'll fill out the adoption forms.  You still naming her Spot?"

Lyndsey shook her head 'no' emphatically, "I think I'm going to name her after my favorite person!"

Warrick smiled indulgently at the little girl as they followed the ASPCA guy back to the front desk, Lynsdey clutching her puppy tightly.

"I don't think 'Grissom' is a good name for a puppy, Lynds.  With a name like that, she might decide to start eating bugs.  And mommy won't work either – she won't know whether to she should lick you or make you a lunch."

Lyndsey giggled, "No silly.  I'm going to name her Warrick Brown, but I'm gonna call her Brownie for short.  Is that okay?"

Warrick smiled, his heart filled with an overwhelming love for this little girl, "I'd be honored."

* * * * *

Greg looked at Grissom and grinned.  "You going to get out and let him know you're here?"

They had been sitting in the driveway for ten minutes, Grissom silently looking from Sara's car to Nick's house and back again.  Greg had silently been watching Grissom.

"Look at it this way, Grissom," he finally offered, "This way, you kill two birds with one stone."

Grissom smiled grimly, "From what you've told me on the drive over, discussing killing birds in Nick's driveway might not be the best idea."

Greg laughed, "You're quite amusing when you're nervous.  Come on, Grissom.  Get out.  I have to be back to the lab in less than 6 hours, and I'd like to get a little sleep."

"Maybe you could just drop me off at my place?"

"Uh-uh.  No way.  Get Nick to do that.  Or Sara.  Sara's a better person to ask."

Grissom closed his eyes against Greg's teasing.  "Christ – does everyone know?"

"That you and Sara should get it together?  Not everyone.  Not Ecklie.  I don't think Mobley suspects anything…uh…the mayor seems to be out of the loop too…."

Grissom opened the door and got out, "Greg.  Shut up.  It was a rhetorical question."  His voice held no malice, however, and he half-smiled at the younger man when he said it.  "And Greg – thanks."

____________________

Author's Note:

Okay – I'm trying to average a chapter a week.  I've been busy.  I'm really sorry.  I'm glad you all are still reading this and sending me emails about it – I promise we're almost done.  Really soon!  And I'll have the next chapter up within 5 – 6 days.  Please R & R!  The reviews help me think things through….