Well chapter three is here, finally! Funny thing happened, I had a dream about writing this story (Yes the insomnia is easing up and letting me sleep once in a while!) and all the CSI's were sitting in my room while I was typing it up. Grissom was correcting my grammar and Warren was telling me how boring it was without him. Greg was wondering when he was going get it on with Selena and then tried to persuade me to write a gorgeous blonde in just for him. All the others were just telling me that what I was writing wasn't accurate or didn't sound like them and so I finally told them all to bugger off out of my room. Then I woke up and thought to myself "Why did I tell them to get out? Grissom was in my room, how much did that rock!!!!" Anyway there's a little insight into my weird mind that I could dream that up. Hope you enjoy this next chapter and as always tell me what you think. Nothing like a little confidence booster about the story to keep me writing. LOL!

Disclaimer- Chapter 1 says it all..

(PS: We brits call a torch..a torch as well. Strange, huh? Though thanks for bringing that up, I've never really thought of it before.) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Flashlights swirled around the darkened room. Grissom was reminded of the old POW movies with the spotlights sweeping across deserted plains looking desperately for an escapee. He shook his head very slightly, forcing the thought from his mind though he couldn't help but think that it was a strangely accurate comparison. Instead of a prisoner they were looking for evidence. His eyes trailed back to the spot where the victim lay. The body had been taken back to the coroner's office for an autopsy. The memory of her golden hair streaked with blood quickly focused his mind on the job at hand. He looked back at the couch, running his torch slowly over it, his eyes straining to see something unusual. He caught a strand of hair out of the corner of his eye. Moving in closer he brought out his tweezers and carefully picked the hair up. He brought it up to eye level, and inspected it closely. The hair was short, about 3 inches long and it was a medium brown colour. He also noticed that it had a skin tag on it. He quickly bagged it, sealing securely within an envelope. Stretching up he looked over to Catherine.

"Got anything?"

"Nope" She raised herself up off the floor with a large sigh. She took off one of her gloves and pushed her hand through her hair, frowning while she massaged her temple.

"What's wrong?" Grissom asked walking towards her, a tinge of concern in his voice.

"Nothing" Catherine replied, smoothing back her hair and snapping the glove back on again. "Just a little bit of a headache, it'll pass" She gave a little smile and then looked down at the envelope Grissom carried.

"You got anything?"

"Found a hair on the sofa, doesn't look like the vic's or her roommates. It's short, colour's brown and it has a skin tag. I'll give it into Greg and see if he can get any DNA from it." Grissom started to walk towards the door, "I'll be in the coroners. If you need me, call." He disappeared out of the door. Catherine took in a deep breath and shut her eyes. She stood there for a moment, trying to force the pain of the headache back. Opening her eyes she lifted up the flashlight and began to trace it round the room again.

A few hours later Grissom was in the lab watching Greg extract DNA from the hair sample. Greg was in his usual relaxed mood, humming some song (no doubt from one of his tone-deaf bands that he insists on playing in the lab) and whizzing around the room. He paused for a second in front of a rack of tubes and then swivelled around on his chair to face Grissom, a smile of triumph on his face.

"Voila!" he pronounced loudly. "Un tube à DNA pour vous Monsieur"

Grissom raised his eyebrows. "At what time, Greg, did you start to speak French?"

"Ah, there are many facets to my brilliance that you don't know about. But don't worry about it Griss, with someone like me nobody can truly reach or understand the inner depths of my intelligence."

Grissom stared at the grinning lab technician with frown of complete confusion and shook his head softly. "Keep a hold of that DNA until I find you something to compare it with." With that he turned and started to walk towards the door. Before he stepped outside he heard a voice trail liltingly out of the lab.

"Oui, patron!"

Grissom gave another little shake of his head, the barest of smiles touching the corner of his mouth. Without answering Grissom walked out of the lab and headed back down to his office to add even more paperwork to his slowly increasing mound. As he reached his office he noticed that his door was ajar. Moving up to the door he pushed it open, seeing a silhouette standing in the middle of his office. Switching on the light the figure was suddenly illuminated. It was Selena. She stood just in front of his desk wearing the same London blue shirt and black jeans that she had worn when they first met. Her eyes were no longer rimmed with red but they still held that same pained look, the look that you have when you realise that part of you has died.

"Dr McGregor?" Grissom could barely contain the surprise from his voice.

"Mr Grissom," she replied with a note of almost embarrassment in her voice. "I'm sorry to startle you but I didn't know what else to do."

Grissom started to approach Selena, a look of concern clouding over his face.

"With what? What's happened?"

"Nothing." she said her voice quivering nervously "well at least I hope it's nothing." She looked up at him then, her eyes filled with tears. "I found a letter. I found it in my bag when I got to my hotel room. It doesn't have a name written on the front and I didn't open it." She started fishing in her bag and pulled out a small sealed envelope. She handed it to Grissom who had pulled on a pair of plastic gloves which he had taken out of his pocket. Grissom took the letter carefully from Selena and turned it in his hands, examining it carefully. He raised his gaze up from the envelope and frowned at Selena.

"Why haven't you given this to the police?"

She shrugged and shook her head. "I phoned the number that Detective Brass gave to me but it was busy. I didn't want to go into the police station and make a big deal out of it. It's probably nothing..probably just a letter a friend gave to me that I've forgotten about, but.."

"But?" Grissom mirrored her, turning it into a question.

"It just didn't feel right." She gave a loud sigh and shook her head. She looked exhausted. "I don't remember having a letter in my bag before..well, before I found out what happened to Claire." Her eyes began to water again, but she fought back the tears and took a deep breath. "I remembered you saying that you were a Criminalist and I thought if I brought it to you and it turned out not to be very important, then I wouldn't feel so stupid for getting the police involved. I'm not sure if that makes any sense to you but..I'm so tired, it was the only thing I could think of to do."

She looked up at him then, meeting his eyes and something inside of Grissom tightened. He felt a wave pity wash through him and something else, something that he couldn't quite recognise. Before he knew it he was nodding.

"Alright, I'll take it down to the lab and examine it. If you just stay here, it shouldn't take very long. I'll come back up and tell you if I found anything significant."

Upon hearing this Selena visibly relaxed. She gave a tired little smile and nodded. "Thank you again, Mr Grissom"

Grissom just nodded and walked out the room towards the lab, clutching the letter carefully in his hand. He walked into the lab not even acknowledging Greg.

"Bonjour," Greg piped as Grissom headed for the lab table. "Always knew that you found it hard to keep away from me. Have you come back for some French lessons or just to wallow in my presence?"

"Shut up, Greg." Grissom retorted in a distracted tone. Greg gave a mock look of shock and then walked over to him, peering over his shoulder to look at the envelope. "What's that? Another love letter for me?"

Grissom briefly looked over his shoulder to frown at Greg and then turned his attention back to the letter.

"The roommate of the murdered woman from the house found this in her bag. She doesn't know who it's from or how it got there. She brought it to me."

Greg's smile slowly faded to a frown. "Shouldn't she have given it to the police?"

"Long story" Grissom turned the letter over to the back. The letter wasn't sealed; the flap had been tucked inside. Carefully lifting the flap out of the envelope Grissom reached inside and pulled out the folded piece of lined paper. Smoothing it out, he laid it flat on the table. The writing was neat and precise, the letters joining together in a smooth, flowing script.

"What does it say?" Greg whispered, still peering down at the table from Grissom's back. With another glance of annoyance over his shoulder, Grissom began to read the letter slowly out aloud.