Disclaimer: Me own this, yeah right.

A/N: Sorry for the wait folks, but I have been really busy with my other fics, but here it is. Roll it!

Grissom's POV.

I'm still staring at the body. I can't seem to register it into my brain that this isn't Sara. She looks some much like her. Catherine walks in, and glances my way briefly; she looks back when she notices the resemblance.

"Whoa!"

I nod at her.

"One thing I can never get over with this job," She said shaking her head, "Anything can happen to anybody."

"That's why we're here," I replied not looking up.

Was this supposed to be Sara? Did she have any enemies that I didn't know about? Fear washed over me like tidal wave. What didn't I know about her? Catherine was taking in the whole bathroom,

"I bet this bathroom was the reason she bought this place."

I look up now, something has caught my attention. I sniff the air, "What am I smelling?" I ask.

Catherine takes a whiff, "Cleanser," She says, "Bleach maybe."

I stand up and look at the blood on the mirror with Catherine, "Arterial spray is neck high, indicates that she was standing when she was attacked," She says pointing.

In my minds eye, I picture Debbie Marlin having her throat slashed. With her appearance like a certain someone, I quickly shook it out of my head. "And the highest gush has the most volume," Catherine continued.

My gaze shifts back to the Vic, "Definite lack of lividity," I said, "She must have bled out."

I can't stop staring at her face. Catherine began to use her skills,

"The killer had to get something on him. Had to be a bloody mess, but there's no ... footprints, there's no handprints, no smears."

I'm still riveted to the body, "She looks like she was placed in this position."

"What's the message?" she asks me.

I don't answer her. Right now I'm not sure of anything.

Sara's POV.

Warrick and I are standing in the victim's kitchen. Right now this is the closest I had been all night to the crime scene. We poured ourselves over the contents of the refrigerator.

"What do we got here?" Warrick said taking an item, "Pendale's milk. Non-fat. Half a gallon. Unopened."

He quickly snapped a photo.

"Groceries that made it inside," I stated.

I walked over to the grocery bag on the counter, and rummage through it. "Fancy crackers, brie, coupons with no receipt," I listed.

"No receipt?" Warrick said, "This milk expires on the 23rd."

"Eight days from now."

Warrick began to use his knowledge, "Milk is delivered daily to the supermarket. That's a ten-day window.People usually reach back for a fresh one. Hmm ... subtract ten from the 23rd?"

He is so pathetic at math. I quickly do the sum in my head,

"She was at Pendale's two days ago."

"Well according to Brass, that's the last time her boyfriends car was seen out front." This case has just taken an interesting turn.

Grissom's POV.

I sit in the bathtub, taking a swab in the drain. Catherine is doing the same at the sink. I calmly put the swab in a tube for testing. Life seems so much easier when you're at work. Your mind doesn't dawdle on dangerous subjects. At work, I'm in control of my life. At home, Sara is in control of it, even though she doesn't know it.

I look at the tube rack, "Positive for both."

"Same here," Catherine said when her swab turned purple, "So there's blood in all four drains, followed by bleach."

"He kills Debbie in the shower; then he washes up in both sinks and the tub. Why?"

It is a curious thing that the killer would clean a bathtub, when the victim wasn't in it. I hardly doubted that the killer took a bath after he murdered someone.

"The answer is in the drains," Catherine says.

I volunteered to go under the house and look. I needed to get out of that bathroom. I walked towards the kitchen so I could get to the drains under the house.

"I'm gonna tell Griss what we got," I hear Sara's voice say, "Then I'll go see the Vic."

What? There was absolutely no way I was going to let her see Debbie. I reached the kitchen as Sara was just leaving,

"Sara I need you for something."

She sighs, "Can't this wait Grissom, I need to tell you what we got."

"Warrick can tell me," I said avoiding her brown eyes, "I need you to go under the house collect the contents of the bathroom drains."

I can tell Sara is not pleased with this, "Grissom I haven't even seen the crime scene yet. How about you go do it?"

"Please Sara," I beg, "Do this for me."

Amazingly she only rolled her eyes, "You owe me big time," she said as she left to do what I asked.

Warrick looked at me puzzled, "What was that about?"

"Nothing," I reply, still watching her leave.

Sara's POV.

"Oh I hate it when I get dirty," I said as I crawled under the house," Why did I listen to him? He could have done this himself."

Because you have been in love with him since the Ice Age. I reach the bathroom pipe, and turn the stubborn pipe with my wrench. Water begins to flow out, and I quickly grabbed the container to collect it. I remove the pipe, and poor the remaining blood stained water into the container. I look up into the pipe seeing if I missed anything else.

Mud stains my jeans. Oh Grissom was going to pay, yes he was.

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