Disclaimer: CSI belongs to somebody else.

"Well, you're not going to believe this," Brass said, ambling over to the coffee pot and helping himself, "But Mr and Mrs Westwood just got back from their holiday in Switzerland ten minutes ago. They saw the cops outside their place and thought they'd been burgled." Brass sighed. "The looks on their faces when I told them all they'd lost was their daughter… Man. Sometimes, I really hate this job."

"I hear that," Val muttered under her breath.

"So," Brass turned to face Val and Warrick, a cup of steaming caffeine in his hands. "You wanna tell me the guy in their house was the murderer?"

"I sure do," Warrick said, grinning. "His DNA matched the samples of DNA at each of the crime scenes. His name is Hugh Lawson."

"The Mole Man Murderer." Val added, expressionless. "The reason he didn't leave his fingerprints on file was because he was printed years ago as part of his job. Y'know, just in case he got lost in the woods or something."

Brass raised a 'tell-me-more' eyebrow as he sipped at his coffee.

"He was a park ranger before he started working at Forrester and York Design and Construction as a - get this - carpenter. He left his old job round about the time a couple of hikers went missing up near Lake Mead." Warrick flexed his hand, which was half-wrapped in a white bandage. Just for safety's sake. "He had access to the blueprints, and first-hand knowledge of the house's design."

"So what was he doing at the Westwood's home?"

"Julia had a calendar back at her place," Warrick explained, "'Mum and Dad away' and 'Mum and Dad back' were written on it. She had her parents address tacked to the fridge. Mole Man's already opportunistic - why not rob Julia's parents while he's at it?"

"Only problem was, you guys showed up." Brass saluted them with his coffee cup. "Nice work, by the way. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go book a bad guy. See you tomorrow." And with that, the detective sauntered off.

Warrick turned to find Val staring at his hand. "You alright?" He asked her.

Val shook herself, and smiled. "Mmm. I just exorcised some demons of mine, is all." She drew a circle on the table with her finger, her eyes flickering to Warrick's hand.

Warrick looked down at the bandage, then back at Val. "Hey," he half-joked, "It could have been worse."

Val nodded, no longer smiling. "I know." She tapped her stomach. "Much worse. But I'm glad you're okay."

Warrick smiled. "So am I." He rose to his feet with a handful of papers. "I have to go file these. You wanna tell Grissom we're done?"

"I will give you five dollars if you kill that thing."

Grissom looked up to see an irate Val standing in the doorway to his office with a bill in her hand, gritting her teeth.

"And good morning to you too, Ms Wilks."

She slapped the money on his table and pointed to a glass tank on the shelf closest to the window. "You still have that roach in here. Kill it."

Grissom shook his head sadly. "Valerie, Goggles is an important part of the case. He's evidence."

"And all evidence must be destroyed…" She stopped, and stared. "Goggles?"

Grissom nodded. "Yes."

"You. Named. The cockroach."

Grissom nodded pleasantly. "Of course I did. Why shouldn't I?"

Val screwed her eyes shut tight, her entire body tensing up. "With all due respect, sir… You don't name something unless you intend to keep it."

Grissom looked over his glasses at her. Yes, and?

Val twitched slightly. "Dr Grissom," she said, her voice catching on her words, "Warrick and I just finished the Westwood case ten minutes ago. Therefore, all evidence pertaining to the case must be destroyed."

Grissom shrugged. "I don't think that counts where Goggles is concerned."

"That THING had nothing to DO with the case!" Val's voice almost hit the Muppet-pitch. "It's just a ROACH!" She twitched again, her eyes flickering to the glass container by the window. "And I am an extreme roach-a-phobic, okay?"

"The scientific name for a fear of cockroaches is…"

"I don't care," Val snapped, "The fact is, if you want me to stay here, you'll kill that thing."

Grissom sighed, frowned, folded his hands on his desk. "Valerie, everything has a right to live."

Val smiled icily. "Those things can take over the planet AFTER I'm dead. But while I'm alive, they should be exterminated."

"I'm not killing Goggles." Grissom said calmly.

Val pushed the money towards him. "Five dollars, Grissom. Just drop it in the tarantula's tank and let nature take its course." She smiled fondly at the tarantula, as though already imagining it tearing the cockroach to shreds. The tarantula moved lazily, as though dismissing the idea.

"Goggles has every right to live on this earth as you do, Valerie," Grissom said. He drew breath as though planning to lecture Val on the importance of a single life, the reason why one life should not impose itself on another, or something philosophical along those lines.

Val pulled another bill from her pocket. "Ten dollars, then."

With a sigh, Grissom took off his glasses and headed for Goggles' container. Without a word, he picked the cockroach out of the container… and held it out to Val.

She couldn't have gotten out of the room faster.

With something bordering on a smirk, Grissom dropped the cockroach back into his container and hid him on a higher shelf, out of sight. "There," he assured the cockroach, "That should keep you safe."

There was a vague wave of antenna.

As Grissom sat back down at his desk and booted up his laptop, he noticed Val had left the ten dollars behind in her rush to escape. Peering out the doorway, Grissom saw Val talking to Sara, apparently recovered from her 'roach-a-phobic' attack.

This time, Grissom did smirk - well, more of a smug smile, really - as he picked up the money and put it in his wallet.

"Hey, Sara!"

Sara looked up, and saw a grinning Val bearing down on her. "Hey Val. You finished your case?"

"Oh yeah." She smiled, "And I feel super. What about you?"

"The missing supermodel was at her parent's house all along."

Val blinked. "So, she wasn't kidnapped?" Val raised an eyebrow and affected a German accent. "Supermodels? Na-zhing super about zhem, dahling. Skinny, skinny girls with poofy lips who think about na-zhing but themselves." She grinned.

Sara blinked.

"The Incredibles," Val explained.

Sara frowned, uncomprehending.

"You need to get out more." She laughed, then smiled. "So, where are you taking me?"

Sara frowned. "Excuse me?"

Val rolled her eyes. "Come on, you've forgotten already? You said you were going to take me on a tour of Vegas."

"Oh. That." Sara frowned teasingly. "I thought that was just an excuse for you to get out of having breakfast with Nick."

Val shook her head. "Funny, Sara. Very funny."

Sara shrugged. "I try."

"Did Grissom notice the blouse yet?"

Sara looked over to Grissom's office. He was sitting at his desk, hand on his chin as he stared intently at his computer screen. He was so absorbed in his task he barely even noticed as people walked past, waving their goodbyes or hellos.

"Earth to Sara?"

Sara turned back to Val, forced a smile, and shook her head. "No, he hasn't said anything, but that's just so Grissom." She reinforced her smile. "I need a drink."

"Wow," Val said, matter-of-factly, "Me too." She grinned. "So, if you're not taking me on a tour of Vegas, why don't you show me where you graveyard-shift CSI's hang out in Vegas?"

"Oh…" Sara tried to cover her tracks. "I don't think you'll like this place. It's got a karaoke section, and some people really can't sing…"

"Karaoke?" Val's eyes lit up. "I love karaoke!"

"Val, it's really not a good idea…"

Her eyes turned pleading. "Come on, Sara… After all, I did buy you the blouse."

Sara sighed, defeated. "Sure."

"Awesome!" Val grinned. "Let me just get my stuff, then I'll meet you outside." She grinned and waved goodbye.

Sara turned to look back over her shoulder. Grissom still hadn't moved, and was still staring at his computer screen. Sara headed for his office.

"Hey."

Grissom jumped, startled. "Oh, hi, Sara."

She leaned on the doorpost, her arms folded. "Still working?"

Grissom nodded, his eyes flickering back to the computer screen. "For a while longer, yes. Just some loose ends to tie up."

"Oh," Sara smiled, nodded, and smiled again. "Well, don't stay up too late. Or early."

Grissom smiled wryly, but his smile was directed at the computer screen. "Like you would do?"

Sara gave up. He wasn't going to notice anything. "Bye, Grissom." She turned away, not expecting to hear him say goodbye. Instead, she head him say something else.

"That's a nice shirt you have on, Sara. Is it new?"

Sara turned back to see Grissom smiling at her.

I have worn this blouse for hours. I was in the same room as Grissom more than once. He had plenty of opportunities to see this stupid shirt and he only just says something now… And to top it off, all he says is 'it looks new'? The shirt looks new. Great. Wonderful.

"It's a blouse," Sara said, a little tersely, before turning away.

Grissom frowned at her retreating back, wondering what he'd said wrong this time.

"Sara? Sara? Hello?"

Sara looked up and saw Val looking at her, concerned. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Sara smiled tightly.

Val rolled her eyes. "You're still on that thing that Grissom said, aren't you." She gave Sara a knowing look, as though she expected Grissom to say something that would have made Sara feel down. "Listen, try to forget about it. Have a drink or three, sing a song. You can yell at him later."

"I don't feel like it," Sara said.

"What, yelling at Grissom? Or enjoying yourself?" Val flipped through the karaoke book in front of her, grinning, looking for another song. "Come on, Sara. We've been here less than half an hour. I've sung twice, with one more song on the way, I've had three Shirley Temples when I'd rather have something a little more alcoholic - but then, you ordered for me - … and you? You haven't even taken a sip from your first, and you're sitting there mute as a swan."

"Ugly duckling, you mean."

Val rolled her eyes and sighed despairingly, but otherwise said nothing.

"You know," Sara said, picking up her drink, "I guess I shouldn't have expected too much of Grissom. I mean… he's Grissom."

Val pointed to one of the songs on the page. "How about this one? Everyone loves a classic."

"… I mean, he tries, but he just… He's just so out of it. I can't see how much plainer I need to be. I mean, the one time I tell him how I feel, he runs away!"

"Maybe not," Val mused, flipping the pages, "I mean, you need a good voice to hit the high notes. And I mean, a really good voice."

"And it's not like he ever would say anything other than 'is the shirt new'." Sara shook her head despondently.

"For people with less-than-average voices, nuh-uh. You can really murder a perfectly good song that way."

Sara frowned at Val. "Are you even listening to me?"

Val rolled her eyes and picked up her drink. "Sara, we came here for one reason."

"What, to have an excuse not to go out with Nick?" She teased.

Val's eye roll was more exaggerated than before. "Ha ha ha. No. It's to have a girl's night out. Even if it's seven in the morning. And a girl's night out means that we forget the guys and we have fun by ourselves. 'Kay?"

"Here, here." Sara picked up her Shirley Temple. "They're hopeless."

"Blind," Val added, holding up hers.

"Unstable. Useless. Predictable."

Val grinned. "And we're so better off without 'em!" The two women clinked their glasses together in a toast. They took long swigs of their drinks, then sat in silence for a moment.

"We're liars, aren't we." Val broke the silence miserably.

Sara nodded, and sighed. Both women drank deep, lost in their own private thoughts.

"Hey Val?" Sara broke the silence.

"Mmm?" Val smiled through her straw.

"What was with that 'green tea' and 'peanut butter' thing you and Nick were talking about before?"

Val swallowed a mouthful of her Shirley Temple noisily. "I have no idea."

"Really? No idea whatsoever?"

Val blushed slightly under Sara's mock-stern gaze. "Hey, my song's up. Hold that thought." She got up from her chair and headed for the stage. Sara hid a smile.

"Come on, man, why not?"

Warrick gave Nick a meaningful look. "She's not interested, okay?"

"She told you to tell me that?"

"No, but I am."

Nick frowned at his friend. "What's wrong with just asking her to breakfast? It's not like I proposed or anything."

Warrick sighed and sipped at his beer. "Listen, man, walk away, alright? The girl has issues."

"Issues?" Nick frowned, "Issues like what?"

Warrick sighed again. "Listen, all I'm saying is she's not worth it." Warrick took another sip from his beer as he tried to think of a way of explaining it without breaking his promise to Val. "Just let Val go. There are plenty of other fish in the sea, Nick."

"Yeah," Nick grinned, "But who wants to date a fish?"

Warrick rolled his eyes and smirked. But Nick kept up the questions.

"What she tell you, anyway?"

Warrick shrugged. "Just some stuff. Quit asking and just drink your beer."

On the karaoke stage, a woman started to sing. I'm so tired of being here, suppressed by all my childish fears…

"But she said she didn't want to go out with me?"

"Almost."

"Why?"

Warrick frowned at Nick. "Listen, if you want reasons, go ask her yourself." He shrugged. "How the hell am I supposed to know what goes on in women's heads?"

Nick half-smiled, then took another sip of his beer.

Your presence still lingers here, and it won't leave me alone…

"The singer tonight's pretty good," Nick said. "Looks like the best karaoke singers come out with the sun."

Warrick snorted. "Yeah, picture that. And all the bad ones come out after dark. Like bats or something."

"So what does that make us? Coming out after dark to work…" Nick joked. Warrick laughed.

There's just too much that time cannot erase…

Warrick looked around the bar. It was pretty empty. Only the earliest birds and the extreme night owls were here. Luckily, the bar was open all day, every day. Like the city itself, really. He took anther sip of his beer.

Your face it haunts my once pleasant dreams; your voice, it chased away all of the sanity in me

Warrick turned back to find Nick staring resolutely at the bottle in his hand, as though Nick were running conversations through his head.

"Nick," Warrick said calmly, demanding the Texan's attention, "Let her go."

I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone… But though you're still with me, I've been alone all along…

Nick sighed, and nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right." He smiled weakly. "She's just one girl, right? Not worth crying over."

"That's better." Warrick smirked.

Nick frowned. "What is?"

Warrick grinned teasingly. "Nick the ladies' man shouldn't get hung up over one chick. Move on."

Nick grinned, then looked around the bar. Suddenly, his eyes popped out of his head. "Is that… Sara?"

Warrick swivelled in his seat, and both CSI's saw their colleague sitting in the karaoke section of the bar. She was watching whoever was singing, and sipping at a bright-red drink.

"Can't be," Warrick frowned. "Why would she come here?"

"It's her alright," Nick asserted, still staring. "I recognise that shirt. Val bought it for her. Speaking of which, wasn't Val supposed to be with her?" Nick looked around the room. Warrick rolled his eyes…

And then saw it was Val on the stage, singing with her eyes shut.

"What the hell?" He murmured, "She said she couldn't hold a tune in a bucket." But then, she'd also said, I like my privacy… Don't tell anyone.

Nick had noticed too. "That's Valerie? Singing?"

The song ended, and the red-haired singer climbed down off the stage and headed towards Sara. After a moment of discussion between the two, Sara went up on stage and started to sing. Val sat back in her chair and tossed back the rest of her drink.

"I gotta go talk to her," Nick said, rising out of his seat.

But Warrick stopped him. "Talk to her tomorrow," Warrick said, being the voice of reason. "You'll see her at work."

The two CSI's watched and listened as Sara finished her song, then, when she came back down off stage, the two women picked up their bags and headed for the door.

Nick and Warrick exchanged glances, then got back to drinking.

A/N: Nick and Warrick walk into a bar. Cue punch line. -.-;;
-foreshadowingforeshadowing- Heh heh heh… n-nv
WAIT WAIT WAIT IT'S NOT DONE YET! After reviewing, PTO!