A/N: Sorry this update took so long, I'm a retard and have lost the plan more times than I've had hot dinners! And cos I'm also a moron I get confused without it haha. But I think I know what's going on now, with or without the plan so hopefully it won't take too long (or at least this long) again! Anyhoo please rnr and let me know if this was okay? I've not written CSI in a while, I'm worried I've forgotten how to do it :S haha. Yeah so… anyway… enjoy :D

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"Hey, Greg I…" Warrick trailed off as the lab technician walked briskly past him, ignoring his presence entirely.

A minute later the younger man was back, looking flustered. "Where's Grissom?" He asked.

Warrick stared at him confused, before answering. "Greg," He asked slowly. "Are you—?"

"Where's Grissom?" He asked again more urgently. "Warrick, please, I need to know where he is."

"He's gone to a conference in Idaho, he couldn't get out of it."

Greg seemed to choke on the words. "I—Idaho? Idaho?"

"Greg, what's going on?"

"Who goes to Idaho in the middle of a case?" Greg asked, his eyes darting back and forth desperately.

"Grissom does. Greg, are you okay? You look like you're about to have an aneurysm."

"When does he get back?"

"Monday."

"Monday." Greg repeated to himself. "Monday's too late." He hung his head for a moment before looking back up at the larger man. "Thanks Warrick." He said softly, before walking towards the exit of the building.

Warrick stared after the blonde confused. "Hey Nick." He grabbed the Texan's arm as he passed in the opposite direction.

Nick looked up from the papers in his hand. "Yeah?"

"You notice anything weird with Greg lately?"

Nick raised an eyebrow. "Since when has the guy ever been normal?"

"No seriously man, he just came in here looking for Grissom, he looked like he was gonna cry when I said he wasn't here."

Nick shrugged. "The guy did have his mom murdered the other day."

"I guess, but I dunno man, I think it's something else."

"You think he's alright?"

Warrick shrugged. "I'm not sure."

"You want me to go find out?" Nick suggested, growing concern at his colleague's obvious worry for the lab technician.

Warrick paused a minute. "I dunno, maybe it is just his Mom, you know him better than I do. Just check on him yeah?"

Nick nodded. "Okay, yeah sure. I gotta break in twenty, I'll do it then."

"Hey Catherine, you seen Greg?" Nick asked twenty minutes later, sticking his round the corner to one of the labs where the blonde was working.

"No sorry Nick, I think he left early, said he wasn't feeling well." Catherine replied, turning her attention back to her magazine.

Nick raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing? I'm not sure Grissom would be too impressed with his temporary replacement if all she's doing is reading Vogue the whole shift."

"Funny Stokes." Catherine replied dryly, sitting up properly in her chair. "I'm waiting to see if I can get a match on the print from Jane Sanders' cell phone." She told him gesturing to the computer on the table beside her.

Nick nodded. "That still all we got?" He asked in his southern drawl.

"That's still all we got." Catherine replied, mimicking him, returning to her magazine. She looked up as the machine started to beep. "Until now." She said sat up straight, pulling herself towards the desk.

"It's got a match?"

"Uh huh, a…" Catherine trailed off as she read the name on the screen.

"What is it?" Nick asked, concerned by her reaction. His mouth dropped slightly as he read the name. "I'm gonna go find Greg."

Nick knocked tentatively on his friend's front door, noticing the painful absence of his gun from his holster. It had been missing from his locker when he'd gone to collect his things after speaking to Catherine. He could count the people who could figure out his code on one hand, three were in Texas and one was in Idaho. Somehow he didn't think that bared all that well for the future.

"Greg?" He asked slowly. "Greg buddy, you in there?" The knot of worry in his stomach was tightening and he pulled out his cell phone in an effort to calm himself a bit.

If I don't call in ten minutes. Come to Greg's. 911 – Ask Catherine

He sent the text message to Sarah and Warrick, Catherine already knowing where he was, and hoped that there wouldn't be any need for them to come. A moment later he frowned. Of course there wouldn't. Greg was probably just feeling run down after everything that happened during the week. And he'd probably just misplaced his gun, Nick told himself. He shook his head at his own nerves, feeling slightly stupid but still unable to completely remove the feeling of worry that hung over him. He knocked again.

"Greg? Anybody alive in there?" He joked. He paused before trying the door handle. "Okay man, I'm coming in. You better be wearing something."

Slowly Nick opened the door, frowning as it stuck. "What the hell…" He mumbled to himself, seeing some obstruction as he pushed. He frowned at the makeshift wedge that had been shoved under the door to stop it from opening. Bending down he pulled it out, stumbling slightly as the door came free and he half fell, half walked into the room. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as he heard an all too familiar clicking sound.

"Don't move Nick." Greg's voice was thick with panic.

Nick's mind was suddenly going a mile a minute, as he debated whether or not to stand up from his rather awkward position in the doorway. "Greg? Man, just calm down okay? It's me, it's Nick, just put the gun down." Nick tried to soothe his friend; unable to see him from the way he was standing.

"What are you doing here Nick?" Greg asked, his voice shaky.

"I came to check if you were okay. Warrick said you looked pretty shaken earlier, about Grissom." Nick told the younger man slowly.

"I think you need to leave." Greg told the Texan, his voice going quiet.

Nick took the softness of Greg's voice as a good sign and used the opportunity to stand back up to his full height. He jumped as he came face to face with the barrel of his own gun.