Disclaimer: I don't own CSI, but I would give my right arm to date Greg. The OC is mine, hands off. Tinuviel Undomiel and Nerwen Aldarion rock forever more.

"Hey, Grissom?"

Grissom looked up. Sara was leaning against the doorway of his office, a frown creasing her pretty face, her arms folded.

"I ran prints on the gun," she said, "The vic was the last person to hold it. His fingerprints are all over it - and they're the only ones."

Grissom smiled slightly, then hid it with a frown of his own. "Maybe the attacker wore gloves?"

"Don't think I didn't see that," Sara said, coming into Grissom's office. "You know something's up, and you're not sharing it."

Grissom tilted his head, and didn't bother to hide his smile this time. "Well, maybe you should ask Warrick. He was on the scene before you arrived."

Sara shook her head, a little despairingly. "So... you're not even going to tell me?"

Grissom smiled. "You'll figure it out, Sara. I know you will." He rose to his feet. "Now, shall we go and identify our mystery man?"

"Grissom..."

The scientist stopped at the doorway, and looked back over his shoulder. "Or you can wait here. It's up to you." He turned and began his usual business-like plodding down the corridor.

Sara turned and reluctantly followed after Grissom, but at a distance. She discreetly took out her phone and dialled a number.

"Warrick."

"Hey, Warrick, it's Sara." Sara whispered, "What did Grissom tell you when you were taking photos at the crime scene?"

"He said the dead guy was lying, whatever that means. Hey, Sidle?"

Sara smiled slightly. "Yeah?"

"How come I got pulled off a hot case and you got my job tonight?"

"Ah..." Sara shrugged into the phone. "Gee, I don't know. Grissom?"

Warrick snorted. "Yeah. Figures. Later."

"Bye."

As Sara rounded the corner, she found Grissom waiting for her.

"According to the security guard's statement," Grissom said, "John Doe was being blackmailed. He told the guard to go away before 'he killed her'."

"So he was lying." Sara nodded, the added, "Because a blackmailer wouldn't kill someone - that's the job of a kidnapper. A blackmailer would only threaten to reveal a secret, but with the source of a secret gone, there's nothing to tell."

Grissom nodded, smiling. "I'm going to re-examine our Mr Doe, see if we can find some identification on him. I want you to look over his vehicle, see if you can find any clues about why he would lie."

Sara nodded. "Right." She started towards the garage.

As she neared the end of the corridor, Grissom called out after her, "What else did Warrick have to say?"

Sara hid a smile and refused to comment.

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The lights were out, and Nick was relying on his flashlight. There was blood pooled under Matthew Hunter's body, and a faint trace of blood spatter on the kitchen cabinet doors. The whole house was silent. Nick could feel the eyes of all those dead animals boring into the back of his skull.

"Creepy in here, isn't it?"

Nick yelled, and spun around. His flashlight shone right into the eyes of a woman. She squinted, and held up a hand to shade her eyes.

"Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" Nick asked, a little abruptly, as he lowered his flashlight.

The woman just smiled.

"What are you doing here, ma'am? This is a crime scene."

"And that's exactly why I'm here," she smiled. "Valerie Wilks."

Nick blinked. His heart rate was slowly returning to normal. "Well, Ms Wilks, it's nice that you're here, but I'm kinda working right now, so if you could please kindly leave, and not sneak up on me again, it would be much appreciated."

The woman, Valerie, tilted her head. Her smile didn't even fade. "You mean Dr Grissom hasn't called you yet?"

"Grissom?" Nick frowned. "How do you know Grissom?"

Valerie continued to smile. "He's my supervisor... for the week."

Nick took a moment to process this information. "You're... Catherine's replacement?"

"Temporary replacement." Valerie grinned. "And you must be Nick Stokes. Nice to meet you. Sorry to scare you." She paused, and looked around the apartment in the dark. "It might be easier to see with a bit of light." She reached for the light switch, and the room was suddenly lit up.

Nick could see his new partner better now. She had the figure and poise of a supermodel. She was tall, slim, and her suit, professional as it was, emphasised her femininity very nicely. Her eyes were a vibrant green, and her smile was wide and warm. Her skin was lightly tanned and flawlessly smooth. Her hair was long, copper-red, bounced in slight waves down her shoulders.

She made CSI look good. Pretty, pretty good.

"What have you found so far?" She asked, coming over, unaware of Nick's silent appraisal. She wrinkled her nose when she saw the amount of blood on the kitchen floor, but knelt down beside Nick, her shoulder brushing his slightly.

"Umm, well..." Nick brought his mind back to the job. "Well, I couldn't find any blood on any knives in the dishwasher or the drawers."

"It doesn't look like this hunter was killed by a knife, Mr Stokes," Valerie said, her glowed hands tracing the air over the wound in the man's stomach. "It looked like he was run through by..." She twisted, and pointed at the back wall. "One of those."

Nick turned around, and looked where Valerie was pointing. The rhino stared down at him with ugly piggy eyes.

"I mean," Valerie said, rising to her feet, "There are hundreds of murder weapons in this very room." She strolled around the apartment, pointing out examples. "Hunting guns in glass cases, tusks, spears, antlers..." She picked up the stuffed puma cub, and hefted it in her hands. The cat's snarl did not waver, and its feet did not scrabble for solid ground. For some strange reason, Nick felt better about that. Valerie smiled wryly at him. "You could probably club someone to death with this, you know."

Nick fought back a smile. "So you're saying it was a weapon of opportunity?"

Valerie placed the puma back down carefully, then nodded. "Of course. I think we should check for dust, to see if anything's been moved." She looked around the apartment, then turned her winning smile back on Nick, asking, "You did see the footprints, right?"

"Footprints?" Nick rose to his feet. "What footprints?"

Valerie headed for the door, Nick trailing behind her. "There," she pointed at the section of apartment floor closest to the door. "You see that?"

Nick looked. The apartment had an unusual set of floors - for the first few feet around the entranceway, the floor was wood, but the rest of the apartment was carpeted. Shag carpeted. Valerie was pointing to the wooden-floors area near the front of the door. A sort of entrance-way, if you will.

And Nick didn't see anything.

Valerie rolled her eyes, then stepped forward and pushed her foot up alongside one of the floorboards. And she pointed again. "See that small hole near my heel?" Nick looked again. Now that it was pointed out, he noticed. Valerie pursed her lips, and looked thoughtful. "Hm," she mused, looking down at her foot, "And they're just about my size, too."

"How is that 'footprints'?" Nick asked, unable to hide a raised eyebrow. "They're just holes in wood."

The woman smiled, a little patronisingly. "What do you know about elephants, Mr Stokes?"

"Elephants?" Where on earth was this going? "Big, grey, peanut addiction..."

"And their feet are bean-bags," Valerie finished, kneeling down and opening her kit. "They have been known to walk over mud, even wet concrete, and not leave a footprint." She pulled out a small measuring tape, and measured from the small hole to a scuff mark in the floor Nick hadn't noticed. "Women in stiletto heels, however, have been known to drill holes in hardwood floors." She smiled up at Nick, the measuring tape sliding shut with a metallic click. "It's all in the feet, Mr Stokes."

"The amount of pressure exerted over a certain area," Nick nodded, catching on. "The elephant's foot..." He pointed to the umbrella stand behind Val, "Is wider, padded, so the pressure is spread out. Stiletto heels have a small, sharp point of pressure..."

"Digging nice holes in the floor for us to find." Valerie finished, a little smugly. "And, given the carnage in the kitchen, I'd say Mr Hunter was killed by a rather angry woman." She smiled archly at Nick. "But then, I'm only the temp."

Nick fought with a smile. "Those holes could have been made by any female visitor Mr Hunter could have entertained. Look, I agree with you when you say that Matthew Hunter could have been killed by a woman, but there's no proof Miss Stiletto Heels was at the crime scene, nor part of this timeline. This evidence doesn't exactly help us."

Valerie shrugged. "Alright, Mr Stokes, whatever you say. You go on back to collecting valuable information, and I'll just take photos and casts of these useless prints, shall I?" She smirked. "We're going to be a great team at this rate." She smiled winningly before raising the camera to her eye and snapping away at the floorboards.

Nick sighed and headed back to the kitchen. He had to admit, he deserved that. But this woman, Valerie, she was sure something. And she knew her stuff. Not bad for a temp.

Not bad at all.

TBC

A/N: Nerwen and Tinuviel will be helping me with a lot of the fluff, since I can't write fluff without having to mangle, murder or stab... in real life or on the page. Reviews make you my best friend ever, and you can come to my birthday party.