Disclaimer: I still don't own them, but if you ever see the opportunity to buy them on Ebay, let me know.

Author's Notes: Well, here's another bit, I'm almost finished with the next part, which picks up pace a bit. I'm still interested to know what you think, I've gotten so many nice reviews and I really appreciate that! This was going to be a bit longer, but with limited amount of online time, I wanted to catch up on some reading, and I didn't want to get started on the next part and cut you guys off in the middle of something. Thank you for everyone who took the time to reply, remember to please do so again.

I'm so relieved to be home, I'm never riding with my brothers and sister again, anywhere. We were supposed to be back yesterday, around lunch time, and my sister and oldest brother got food poisoning, so we were stuck in the middle of nowheresville Texas, at a rinky dink hotel probably full of germs and creepy crawlies I don't even want to think about, trying to take care of them, Jamie and Jake are such babies when they're sick, I swear. Writing is therapeutic, so I may have a new part out by morning, haha.

Jenny

Six:

Catherine laid on her sofa, lazily clicking the buttons on the remote control, her eyelids drooping. Her leg was propped up on several pillows, which Lindsey constantly came to fluff, now that school was over, and her injured arm was draped over her stomach, the neon yellow wrap making it hard for her to concentrate on TV, since it was in her peripheral vision, and she was too lazy to find another spot for it. That was the side effect she hated most about her pain medication, the drowsy, out-of-body feeling it gave her once she took them.

She didn't even hear the knock on the door, it was only when Lindsey shook her sore shoulder that she looked up from the monotonous clicking of TV channels, "What?" She gasped as pain shot through her arm, "Lindsey, remember to be careful."

"Sorry Mom." Lindsey said, looking down slightly as a tremor shook her lip. She had been very emotional since the accident, afraid that her mother was going to leave like her father had, and the smallest things had been sending her into a fit of emotions since Catherine had been home. "But Mr. Warrick's here to see you."

"You don't need to call me Mister." Warrick said with a smile, tousling Lindsey's hair gently, "Just Warrick."

Catherine took Lindsey's hand into her own, and pulled her into a tight, yet painful, hug, "I'm sorry I snapped at you baby, you just surprised me."

"It's okay Mommy. I'm going to go play with Tucker, he has a pet snake." She said, referring to the young boy that lived next door, "Bye Warrick."

"How are you feeling?" Warrick asked, helping Catherine as she struggled to sit, "You look...disoriented."

Catherine motioned to the pain medication sitting on the table, "Drugged up." She gave Warrick a sleepy smile, stifling a yawn, "It's hard to get my wheelchair going, since my arm barely functions, so by the time I get halfway across the house, my arm hurts worse than it did when I broke it, Darvocet takes the edge off. Although, it doesn't do much for my alert personality."

"I like you even when you're all drugged up." Warrick teased, sitting beside her and rubbing the back of her neck gently, "Everyone at work is asking about you, it's not the same without you, and Sara, of course. It's just too quiet without you guys to liven things up. Even Ecklie seems to have lost his spark...of course, that's probably because he's got some of his people covering our shift..."

"It's not like he'd actually care that we're hurt." Catherine said with a sigh, "So, have you been busy, or has crime taken a vacation?"

"3 multiple db's last night." Warrick said, nodding in agreement as Catherine's eyebrow's raised with a surprised grin, "Not to mention the 2 B&E's, and 1 domestic disturbance."

"I'm sure last shift was a riot, then." Catherine replied, "Glad to have some help from days, right?"

"We had two people from Ecklie, and we also had Greg pitching in. He was on cloud nine, you should have seen his face. You'd think we just told him that Santa was real and was bringing him last month's playboy bunnies for a present."

"I can imagine." Catherine said, her smile growing, "So, you're early, I didn't expect you for a few more hours, and after hearing how busy you've been, I'm surprised you're not at home sleeping."

"I knew you'd probably be getting tired of being alone, you know, misery loves company. Thought you'd enjoy a friendly face. If you want me to leave..."

Catherine forcefully shook her head, "No, not at all. I'd love for you to stay, I was just surprised, that's all. Want something to drink?"

Warrick shook his head, smiling at his coworker. She was wearing grey jogging pants, one leg pulled up over her cast, and a light blue tank top, which showed off her body very nicely. Her hair was pulled back in a sloppy ponytail, but even sloppy, it looked beautiful. He blushed slightly as he realized she was watching him check her out, and motioned to the TV, "Anything on?"

"I really don't know." Catherine laughed, "I've been flipping channels for hours now, I don't really watch anything regularly, so I don't know what to watch. What I really want to do is go back to the lab, I'm going stir-crazy here."

"Believe me, we miss you at the lab. Maybe you can come in for awhile and just hang out, if you're bored here. An extra pair of eyes never hurt, and if you're up to it, physically, to be out and around, I don't think Grissom would mind." Warrick suggested, knowing if he was laid up at home, he'd be wishing he was back at work, just doing something. That was one thing the CSI's shared in common, they didn't like to be listless, they wanted to be kept busy.

Catherine's eyes met Warrick's, and she shrugged, "I don't know. I mean, I'd love to be out of the house, and I wouldn't mind seeing everyone at work, even helping out in the lab, but a whole shift? I would be exhausted when Lindsey was getting up in the morning, and if my leg or my arm started hurting, it's not like you guys could put down your cases and bring me home, and I couldn't ask my sister to get Lindsey up and bring her out just to get me."

"Yeah, I see that." Warrick relented, "But if you change your mind..."

"I know." Catherine smiled, "So, what do you want to do until it's time to go to dinner?"

"You ever play poker?"

Sara leaned against Greg's kitchen counter with her elbow, trying to figure out a way to carry a bag of chips and her soda into the living room, on her crutches, without spilling it. She knew she was too sore to make two trips, her hands were in excruciating pain after the short walk from the living room, to the bathroom, then to the kitchen, the burns hurting a lot worse once the pressure of her body was exerted on them. She should have listened to the nurse at the hospital and taken a wheelchair, then she could have Greg move her around, but stubborn Sara didn't want to be dependent on anyone. If she knew then what she knew now, she would gladly accept the blue wheelchair over her stupid metal crutches.

She slipped the can of soda into the waistband of her pajama pants, picking up the bag of chips with her teeth, and wearily grabbed her crutches. Greg had put some extra padding around the handles, hoping it would cushion her hands and lessen the pain, and Sara vaguely wondered what it would feel like without the cushioning, if it hurt this much with it. She grabbed the other crutch, groaning as she accidently shifted her weight onto her bad foot. She made a mental note to talk to the doctor about getting a walking cast, and tried to see if she could shift her weight any other way but on her arms and hands.

After giving up hope that the searing pain in her hands would cease, she hobbled slowly into the living room, collapsing on the old, beat up sofa, and letting her crutches fall to the floor. Once her hands stopped throbbing, she'd move them somewhere out of the way, until then, she didn't want to touch anything.

Greg's apartment was a little nicer than she had expected, although it was vaguely like the apartments of her guy friends back in college. The living room was basic, white walls, a press-board entertainment center with a 29 inch TV against the center wall, a small desk with a newer looking computer in one corner, in the other a bookshelf, also press-board, which was full of science books and old college texts. Against the back wall was Greg's couch, a dark brown with several stains, probably a hand-me-down, but very comfortable. Greg had covered it with a sheet, and found three bed pillows to make her more comfortable, as he used the couch's two brown throw pillows to prop up her injured ankle. On the counter separating the kitchen and living room sat a nice stereo system, wireless speakers mounted throughout the living room, creating a surround sound system nicer than anyone's that Sara could remember.

She hadn't been in his bedroom, although she caught a glimpse of it as he hurriedly shut the door once they had arrived at the apartment. From what she could see, it was cluttered, posters on the walls, a blacklight bulb in his lamp. Clothes were strewn on the floor, along with what she could only hope were science magazines. If she had seen a picture of his room, messy and disorganized, and then seen a picture of the rest of his house, fairly clean and maintained, she would never have guessed both belonged to Greg.

He had picked her up, looking exhausted and depressed (she later found out it was just from his headache), and he had told her the tale of how he got to work out in the field, twice, the shift before. She had been instantly jealous of the activity at the lab, but had kept her mouth shut, because obviously Greg had been working hard and had a rough night. He was surprisingly quiet on the way to his apartment, and after making sure she had everything she needed, he had crashed in his bedroom, not stirring since 9:30 am.

She took a sip of her soda, flipping to CourtTV to see if anything interesting was playing, but once she saw it was a repeat of an already seen "Forensic Files", she lost interest and began to think of other ways to occupy her mind. Greg had been asleep for nearly 9 hours, and she knew it was time to get him up so they could be ready to go out to dinner with the others, but the thought of getting up with her crutches again stopped her from venturing into his bedroom to wake him.

She waited a few minutes, debating on whether or not to just call for him, when a knock sounded at the front door. She cursed slightly, having to maneuver the 'death sticks' and slowly hobbled to the door, opening it to reveal a bright-eyed, fresh Nick Stokes.

"Hey!" She exclaimed, backing up so he could enter. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"Couldn't resist stopping by to check in on you, since it's your first day out. How are you feeling?" Nick asked, looking her over and trying to determine her condition with a scrutinizing eye, "You look pale."

"I'm tired." Sara replied, shifting her weight and wincing as the side of her crutch hit the still-sore cut on her side, "I hate this."

"Let me help you." Nick said gently, bending over and scooping her up into his arms, carrying her into the living room and setting her down on the couch, "You shouldn't be moving around so much, you're going to hurt yourself. Stay put, okay?"

"The stop knocking on the door." Sara teased, "Since you don't want me moving around, care to go wake up Greg?"

Nick looked towards Greg's shut door, then glanced back at Sara, "You don't think he sleeps nude, do you?"

"God, I hope not." Sara replied, "At least for your sake. We're going to be late if he doesn't get going, though."

Nick nodded in agreement, crossing the room and knocking gently on the door. Receiving no answer, he pushed it open and ventured inside, stepping over video games, clothing, and various car, science, and swimsuit magazines, until he reached the bed. Shaking Greg's shoulder gently, he whispered, "Greg?"

He got no answer, and tried again, shaking him a little harder, "Greggo, wake up."

"Sara." Murmured Greg, rolling over and trapping Nick's arm under his shoulder, "Mmm...Sara."

His eyes sleepily opened as Nick tried to remove his hand, and once he saw the man standing over him, Greg let out a loud shriek, "Nick!"

"Yeah, I'm still not Sara." Nick teased, embarrassed for his friend, "She wanted me to let you know it was time to get up. It's getting late."

"I...I wasn't dreaming about her." Greg stammered, rubbing his eyes tiredly, "It wasn't like that. You believe me, right?

"Sure." Nick laughed, walking back towards the door, "And I also believe in the tooth fairy. Take a cold shower, kiddo, you definitely need it after that mental experience."

(Yes, no, maybe so?)