The second chapter of this post-finale story. Thanks to my beta readers Anne and Ash, they deserve as much credit as I do. Reviews and comments are always appreciated.

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Catherine and Warrick were on the way to hand over their evidence to Greg when they saw Grissom talking to the DNA tech. From the way Greg was nodding, it was pretty clear that his end of the conversation consisted entirely of "yes sir." The pair waited until Grissom was out of earshot before entering Greg's domain.

"Hey, Greggo. What did you do to piss Grissom off again?" Warrick asked.

"Wasn't me, Warrick. Evidently there's some case that has both Griss and Sara up in a tizzy. Beyond that, I don't know."

Catherine and Warrick's eyebrows went up. What the hell could upset both of them?

Just then, the brunette entered the room. Greg's hands went up in surrender. "I already had Grissom in here-"

"Relax, Greg, I'm not here to chew you out." Turning to the two other CSIs, Sara said, "Grissom wants you in his office ASAP." She didn't wait for a response before heading off.

The two exchanged a look of disbelief. Seeing their response, Greg spoke up. "Now you believe me?"

"Oh yeah. Here, more DNA for you to process," Catherine said while handing over some swabs. "Get back to me when you can, OK?" Greg nodded, and soon the pair headed off towards Grissom's office.

---

Grissom was on the phone when Catherine and Warrick joined the meeting. Sara was already on one of the chairs going over the coroner's prelim, while Nick was just leaning against one of the many metal shelves inside.

Seeing the two enter, Grissom waved them over. Catherine took the other chair, while Warrick stood off to the side.

As Grissom hung up, Catherine asked him a question. "Grissom, what's this about a case getting you and Sara all worked up?"

"That's what we were about to discuss, Catherine," Grissom said. "Sara?"

As Sara laid out the whole case file, Grissom was thinking quietly. Why now? Why Las Vegas? So many questions, but so few answers.

When Sara was finished briefing everyone on their Moriarty imitator, Warrick spoke up from the side. "Is the case file on the way from California?"

Grissom answered. "That was the San Francisco CSI supervisor I was talking to on the phone. The case file is being sent electronically as we speak, and they have also agreed to send over what physical evidence they have. Not a whole lot, but they'll let us see if there's anything new."

Everyone nodded. Grissom gave out their tasks for the remainder of the shift. "Sara and I will work any new cases from this Moriarty wannabe. The three of you will have to cover for any other crimes that take place."

"You sure you don't need any help?" asked Nick. "This could get real big real quick."

Grissom shook his head. "Not yet. If we need any help, we'll get it."

There were no other questions. Grissom dismissed them all, except for Sara. "Now what?" she asked.

"First step to any serial is understanding them. We know that our suspect fashions himself after Professor Moriarty. That's a start. We need to go over both your current case and the San Francisco ones." Grissom glanced at his watch. "This could take a while. Up for a double?"

Sara couldn't help but smirk. "Me? Always."

---

Catherine, Brass, and Warrick were at a nearby bar. It was a favorite hangout for graveyard shift personnel from both the CSI lab and the police. Inside, it felt like it was ten in the evening, though it was more like ten in the morning.

"So, what'd you think? Is this for real?" Catherine asked Brass.

"Who, our super-crook wannabe? I dunno. Could be." Brass took a swig from his beer. "What I really want to know is how come Grissom and Sara are working the case together."

"Jim Brass the gossip. Who knew?" said Warrick.

"Hey, I'm just looking out for him as a friend. And it is a legitimate question, you know."

"Yeah, well, if you can figure them out, you've done something me, Warrick, and Nicky haven't. Good luck," Catherine said.

"It's not that difficult, really. Boy likes girl. Girl likes boy. So far so good," said Brass while waving over another round.

"But boy doesn't know what to do. And he is the girl's boss. Baaaaad," Warrick noted.

"Very bad," Catherine agreed. "Remember back when Gil was on his safari out in Jackpot?"

"Yeah? So?" Brass asked.

"Well, he made me do a ton of paperwork, so I was in his office when I noticed this unsealed envelope in the drawer. Guess what it was?"

"Umm, tickets for Celine? He does get them, you know," Warrick said.

Catherine playfully swatted Warrick. "Well, no. Besides, he doesn't actually watch, he just sells them to David over at the morgue. Anyway – it was a resignation letter addressed to the Sheriff and Director Covallo."

"What, you mean he's thinking of quitting? That's not the Grissom I know."

"Not from CSI, Brass. Just from being supervisor. I don't think a week goes by without him complaining about all the administrative crap he has to deal with. Hell, I'm convinced he butts heads with the bosses just so they'll demote him."

Warrick opened another bottle. "Isn't he worried about being fired?"

"Nah. Even if he is, he'll probably get a dozen offers from other labs just like that."

"Here's what I don't get. Suppose that he is willing to put his career on the line, that he's ready to quit. Why hasn't he done anything so far? Cold feet?"

Brass reached over for some peanuts. "Short version? Yeah. Back when Griss was a brand new level three, he was a lot like Sara is right now. Workaholic, smart as hell. Everyone knew he was going places. Just starting to build a rep as the bugman."

Warrick's eyebrows went up. "You mean Griss actually had emotions back then?"

"That's the problem with you CSIs, you're not good with people. It's not that Grissom doesn't have emotions, he just doesn't feel the need to parade it before everyone else. Ever seen him interview a vic? He's better at calming them down than anyone else I know."

"And the point of this is....?" Warrick asked.

"Don't you get it? There's only one thing that can scare Gil Grissom, something that can send him scurrying behind those emotional walls of his."

Catherine completed the thought. "Someone who reminds him of himself."

---

Back at the lab, Grissom rubbed his forehead with his fingers. He could feel a migraine starting to take a hold on his head, and he needed his medication. Now.

Sara had been caught up in her own reading and was startled when Grissom almost ran over to the nearby sink. After he was done taking his pills, he turned to face the brunette. Sara noticed his face was somewhat flustered. "What happened?"

"Migraine." He carefully walked back to his chair before taking a seat. "I can't do this anymore. I'm getting too old."

"Have we found anything new? We have spent the past few hours going in circles." There was a tinge of frustration in her voice.

"Have we considered that we may not be dealing with just one suspect?"

"We always assumed that we were dealing with a lone psychopath. No proof either way, though."

"Pathologies of his crimes are too different. The same criminal engages in rape and masterful thievery? Unlikely."

"I, I don't know." Sara tossed the folder she was reading onto Grissom's desk. "I hate this. We're just spinning our wheels here, can't we do something?"

Grissom shook his head. "The evidence gathered out in San Francisco won't get here for a few hours. We've gone over all the papers they sent – twice, if I remember correctly. Not much evidence from your recent case, and we've checked that out as well."

Sara yawned. "I know, it's just that..."

"You want to do something. I know." He glanced over to his shelves. "Maybe we can."

Her gaze followed Grissom's, wondering what he was looking at. It was something red, in a small plastic container.

Red Creeper.

When she turned to face him, there was a look of shock in her face. "Serious cases require serious forensic tools," he said, with a grin beginning to appear on his face.

"I swear, when you die, there'll be a line in your will about Red Creeper. 'I hereby bequeath the formula for Red Creeper to the Las Vegas Crime Lab.'"

"What, and let Ecklie have it? Not a chance," he said. "I'm not going to give you the whole formula. I'll show you the procedure, but not the material list."

"You do know that I can figure out the materials quickly enough. You really want the secret of Red Creeper out there?"

His eyebrow went up at her question. "Who said anything about spreading the secret?"

---

Being a criminalist in Las Vegas meant dealing with the bizarre on an almost daily basis. Where else would you see a guy in a raccoon suit being shot by accident? Still, the sight before Catherine was something she thought she'd never see.

Grissom was leaned back in his chair, sleeping. Sara, in turn, had turned the two chairs into a makeshift bed and was also sound asleep. Someone – Catherine wasn't sure who – was lightly snoring.

Not wanting to deal with the wrath of both of them, Catherine quickly but silently closed the door. She made a beeline for the locker room, but not before she ran into Greg.

"Hey, Catherine, have you seen Grissom?"

"Erm, yes, but why are you looking for him?"

"Oh. I need him to sign this authorization. I'm a tad low on some supplies, and I've put in an order to restock."

Catherine looked over the papers the DNA tech was carrying. "Greg, I wouldn't bother him right now. Unless the next doctor you want to meet is Robbins."

"He busy or mad again?"

"Yeah." You don't want to go there, Greg. Trust me.

"Oooo-kay." Greg went back the way he had came.

Catherine grinned and shook her head as she trotted to the locker room. Greg is so not ready to deal with what is inside Grissom's office.

Meanwhile, Grissom awoke from his slumber. Making Red Creeper was, under the best of circumstances, difficult and exacting. They had made more than Grissom usually did in one batch, and that didn't help matters either.

It had been sufficiently tiring that they had both fallen asleep soon afterwards. It was only now that he realized what it would look like to the rumor mill. He looked up to the Billy Bass above his door. It hadn't moved a bit. Grissom breathed a sigh of relief, unaware that Catherine had long figured out how to avoid the singing fish.

As if on cue, Sara started to get up. "Good evening," he dryly said.

"What?" Sara asked, slightly confused.

"Look at your watch." She did.

"Oh crap," she said as her head turned towards the floor. It was just one hour before shift.

"I can normally go three days without sleeping, you know."

"I know," he said with a touch of concern in his voice. "Get something to eat. Change clothes. I have a feeling our Moriarty will pull off something tonight. We'll need to be at 100 percent if he does."

Sara was about to protest, but Grissom didn't let her. "Please?"

How the hell does he do it? One word from him and I'm weak-kneed. "Okay," she said. "I might be a little late for assignments."

"Don't worry. We'll wait."

Later, Grissom realized that she didn't have to tell Sara they would wait for her. As he entered the break room, Sara was right there in her usual place.

"Good news. So far, we don't have any new scenes for tonight. For now, wrap up your cases and catch up on your paperwork." Everyone groaned at hearing the last word. Grissom continued. "Necessary evil. Sara, the evidence from San Francisco just got here, layout room. Everyone else, we're done."

---

Sara rejoined Grissom after handing off some DNA samples to Greg. While CODIS, the DNA database, had come up dry four years ago, it was possible their suspect had been entered into the database in the intervening time.

It was possible, but not likely. It was their only current lead, but it was likely it wouldn't turn up anything.

Evidence never lied, but sometimes it didn't say anything.

She noticed Grissom was on the phone with someone. He soon hung up. "That was Brass. Breaking at entering at UNLV, with a missing security guard to boot. Moriarty left a calling card."

Sara picked up the jacket she had left on the table. "I'm driving," she said.

---

To be continued...