Disclaimer: I disclaim everything. They are not mine.

Spoilers: None.

Pairing: GCR and WS

Summary: The four younger CSIs formulate a cunning plan whilst intoxicated (on vodka jelly) one Christmas Eve.

Argh, I could've waited and tried to squeeze more reviews outta ya, but hey, I owe ya better than that! Thanks to my five reviewers, Dizzy-Dreamer, Celsie, Jenn Sidle, firestorm13 (it's not finished yet firestorm! Don't leave me now!) and Megara1 . Brilliant, as ever. Enjoy! Love LJ xXx

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To All, A Good Night. Chapter Seven. On Christmas Day In The Morning

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Warrick lay there for a while, slowly recollecting the previous night as the sun slinks over the window sill. When he moved his arm from around her, Sara turned half-asleep and buried her face in his bare chest until she reluctantly opened her eyes.

"Huh." Came her voice, in a tone of surprise and amusement. He drew back from her.

"You don't regret it do you?" he asked hesitantly. She shook her head furiously.

"No, no I – " then she stopped. "I think I'm gonna be sick." And she leapt out of the bed, wrapping herself in the duvet and dashing off to Catherine's downstairs bathroom.

"Sara!" A suddenly very naked Warrick hurriedly pulled on some boxers and ran after her.

"Good sleep?" Greg enquired mischievously from where he stands above the sink, doing his hair in the mirror as Sara stumbled in and stuck her head in the toilet bowl.

"Shut up Greg," she muttered darkly in between retches.

"Charming," he grumbled, pinching spikes into his hair as Warrick rushed in to kneel beside her. "Merry Christmas to you, too."

"I'm hoping this isn't a response to my question," Warrick says with a slight smile, rubbing her back as she threw up into the toilet.

"No, no – I'm sorry. No I don't regret it; I mean everything I said and did last night," she assured him before vomiting some more.

"Good," Warrick replied with a grin. "Because so do I."

"Ooh," came Greg's voice from the sink. He carried on styling his hair without looking away but continued: "So you'll be getting married next week then?"

"Huh?"

"What?"

Greg turned around mischievously.

"Don't tell me you don't remember – you meant everything you said last night. And last night, you agreed to get married next week." Greg informed them gleefully, resisting the urge for an evil laugh.

"No we didn –" Sara began fiercely and then her face changed as she remembered. "Oh crap." Warrick looked at her carefully and shrugged.

"Maybe not next week but...we'll see how it goes?" he offered. "One day?" She smiled and nodded.

"Yeah, okay – I'd like that." And then she turned and retched some more.

"What a beautiful moment," Greg commented dryly. Sara shot an angry look at him.

"Warrick, can you get me some clothes?" she asked, wrapping the duvet more tightly around her.

"I'm staying for this." Greg declared immediately, but only mildly protested when Warrick dragged him out of the room by one of his finely-styled spikes of hair.

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"Look what I've found." Catherine murmured tantalizingly into Gil's ear as she clambered back onto the bed in her dressing gown. He propped himself up on his elbows and grinned as she waved two envelopes at him, both messily addressed to each of them. She handed him the one with his name on it and they opened them together. Her eyes glinted impishly as she quickly read the short note.

"Wow – they got me," Catherine said with a smirk, flipping the card elegantly in her fingers so he could read it.

"Spectacular?" Grissom read and raised an interested eyebrow. "How very sweet of you. Well they pretty much took the words out of my mouth, too." She laughed and crawled to lie by his side and read over his shoulder.

"That's it?" she protested, punching his shoulder lightly. "That's all you'd say? What about my ass?"

"Honey, you know how I feel about your ass," he maintained. She raised her eyebrows, clearly not impressed.

"But that's it? Nothing else? Not even an 'I love you'?" she complained. He gave a dramatic sigh and got out of bed.

"That's what you want?" he asked as he reached into his bedside drawer. "Okay – I love you, Catherine. Will you marry me?" And he pulled out an engagement ring in a velvet box and held it out to her. She just looked stunned.

"Well – " she said, struggling to find words. "Well that's more like it." He laughed.

"That's a yes then?"

"Oh that's a yes." Catherine agreed and kissed him.

"Merry Christmas," he whispered with a smile as she drew back. "What do you say we go wake the kids and tell them?"

"All five of them?"

Grissom laughed again and nodded. "All five of them."

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Lindsey was already awake though, and standing up above the still-suited and still-sleeping Nick in the living room.

"Boy, Santa's really let himself go," she muttered sarcastically in a tone that would've made her mother proud and snapped the elastic of Nick's beard.

"Wha – huh? Wha?" Nick sat up suddenly, looking all around him in confusion.

"Good morning, Uncle Nicky." Lindsey chirped innocently. "Merry Christmas!"

"Ohhh man." Nick held his head in his hands before putting on a smile for Lindsey. "Merry Christmas, kiddo. I am so hung-over."

"Uncle Nicky!" Sara snapped from behind him and he turned to see pale but far more presentable-looking Sara standing over the couch with Warrick's arm comfortably around her waist and flanked by Greg, Grissom and Catherine.

"Oops – I'm sorry, try to pretend you didn't hear that." he mumbled vaguely to Lindsey. Lindsey shrugged.

"Anyway, children – we've got something to tell you." Grissom spoke up.

"You're getting married!" Greg jumped in with a guess excitedly.

"You're having a baby!" Lindsey speculated with equal excitement.

"Oh! Call it Nick!" Nick yelled above them all.

"Hold it there," Catherine held up a hand. "No – just the first one. Just...just the first one."

"My plan! It worked!" Greg whooped triumphantly.

"No, actually – I went with Uncle Gil to get the ring," Lindsey informed him in a matter-of-fact way.

"Whoa – beaten to it by an eleven-year old, Greg," Warrick gave his friend a small shove.

"Touché, Linds." Sara grinned at the little girl.

"Well anyway, Nicky – I hope you can make yourself more decent soon because you're all staying for Christmas dinner," Catherine announced ceremoniously and headed into the kitchen.

"You didn't want to tell them yet?" Grissom asked quietly, following her into the kitchen and shutting the door. Catherine smiled softly.

"About the baby? No I think that's already enough excitement for one day." Catherine slipped her arms around his waist as he wrapped his around her and stood for a while in the middle of the kitchen.

"Maybe we can tell them on New Years." He suggested and smiled down on her slightly. "So what do you think of the name...Nick?"

Catherine laughed. "Not a chance."

Standing tentatively on the other side of the closed kitchen door, Lindsey Willows aimed a small punch into Uncle Nicky's bicep and grinned.

"Told ya!" she chirped.

"What's wrong with 'Nick'?" he objected quietly, before wandering off to take a shower and change into something a little less...Santa.

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