Title: Not a Little Girl

Author: Trialia

Rating: G

Summary: Improv challenge fic. It's 2006, but it's still too soon for Lindsey to look at certain things. Greg gets in trouble with Catherine.

"Just what exactly do you think you're doing?" Catherine swept down on Greg like an avenging Fury, sapphire eyes flashing fire. Stretching over his shoulder, she flicked the computer monitor off with a decisive click. The young man stilled in alarm, but before the senior CSI could launch into her tirade, the girl seated beside him acted.

She knew her mother well enough by now to try to head her off before her temper built up momentum.

"Mom please, don't be mad at Uncle Greg. I asked him to find me something like this to look at," the twelve-year-old pleaded, widening her eyes in a profession of innocence. Catherine sucked in a deep breath and turned to face her daughter.

"You, young lady, have some serious explaining to do. I don't do my best to keep you safe to have you looking at things like this on the Internet!" She gestured furiously toward the computer, flinging out an arm to illustrate her point and hitting Greg sharply across the face. He yelped in surprise and pain, a hand flying up to cover his left eye. "Cath!"

Catherine looked shocked for a moment, realising what she had done. "Damn it," she cursed softly, moving to the refrigerator. Passing him an ice pack, she muttered, "Sorry. Here, put that on it."

Turning to look out of the hall window, she caught sight of Grissom and Sara on their way in, and moved to the door. "I'll be back for you in an hour, Linds," she said shortly. "Greg, we need to talk." With that, she passed out of the room, headed for their supervisor.

Sara entered the room in time to catch the older woman's parting shot, "Stay off that site!"

"What was that all about?" she asked curiously, one hand sliding to idly stroke her abdomen as she came in and drew herself a cup of coffee.

"Mom got mad at Uncle Greg," Lindsey said, straight-faced. Sara took one look at Greg's rapidly-developing black eye and choked back a laugh. "So I see. Hey Greg, you okay?"

Greg groaned dramatically, exaggerating the pain. "You could kiss it better," he suggested blithely, his uninjured eye wide in pretended innocence.

"Oh, very funny," Sara remarked sardonically, "and where would you like to be buried after Griss murders you?"

"Ooh." He smiled quickly. "Kinda… forgot about that."

The brunette laughed, caressing her five-months-pregnant belly gently and placing her cup on the counter. "I won't be able to see my feet soon, and you can forget?" she quipped, true happiness shining through her radiant smile even as she complained.

"Congratulations, Sara," Greg told her seriously. "I'm happy for you."

"Just keep feeling that way," she responded with another smile. "So…" she looked at Lindsey quizzically, "what were you two looking at that made Catherine so mad?"

"Just a site," the girl replied evasively, blue eyes flicking across to Greg, who glanced quickly at the still-darkened monitor.

"What kind of a site?" Sara asked suspiciously, leaning toward the computer, but catching her breath sharply. "Okay, leaning makes him kick," she observed, rolling her eyes and straightening up again. Lindsey smiled.

"Linds? What were you looking at?" Sara's chocolate eyes drilled into her colleague's daughter until Lindsey winced, turning her head away and pushing a curl behind her ear, looking like a miniature edition of Catherine.

"Well… you know you said I could be your bridesmaid?" Lindsey's smile returned, shyly.

"Yeah?"

"Well, it kinda made me think about getting married someday, and what my own wedding would be like," the girl explained, "so I went on this website to check out all the stuff. I was just looking at dresses and then Mom came in and started yelling at Uncle Greg. I don't know what's wrong."

Sara's eyebrows were arched, a mystified expression on her face.

"Okay, that was weird."