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.

A much shorter chapter this time just to tie up loose ends. This IS the final chapter so really thank you very very much for all the reviews. With fics that try and be funny you can either get good feedback or flames and it was really great to get some lovely comments out of you all! As ever, I'll take the opportunity to shamelessly plug future fics, though they're turning out to be rather more dark. "Perpetuity" is a GCR with some WS and "Wake The Hope" is a WS with some GCR. So really, there's something for EVERYONE, apart from quite a lot of people...

But thank you so much, especially the reviewers of the last chapter: Charmed-angel4, sitarra, Jenn Sidle, Celsie, firestorm13, Megara1, JoonSanders, D.M.A.S and meg (thanks for reviewing On The Verge and On The Peak too, I take it you're a GCR shipper?) Anyway, enough rambling from me. Thanks for being brilliant. Enjoy! Love LJ xXx

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To All, A Good Night. Chapter Eight. O Holy Night

- o -

Christmas drew to a close at Catherine and Gil's place with the seven of them lounging in the living room, having eaten what felt like just about everything. Nick lay flat on his back on the floor, groaning after polishing off the turkey in response to the challenge by Greg, Warrick and Lindsey. It had been declared the main event of the day by the eleven-year old as the three of them cheered him on with Grissom and Catherine staring with disturbed fascination and vegetarian Sara looking away, feeling slightly sick again.

Beside Nick, Greg sat patiently on the carpet, distracted by the re-runs of old Disney films on TV as Lindsey stacked the flimsy paper hats from the crackers on his spiky head.

"You gotta stop fidgeting, Greg," Lindsey instructed the only CSI who wasn't quite old enough for the title of Uncle yet as Greg began to bop up and down, singing along to Under the Sea. The colourful paper hats began to float down and Lindsey gave him a small shove.

"Ouch! Catherine – help me!" he appealed, being playfully battered by the little girl. Catherine shrugged lazily from where she sat on the couch beside Gil who had his arm comfortably around her.

"Outta my hands, Greggo." she told him. Nick on the floor suddenly thought of something and struggled to sit up.

"Hey – Cath, Griss – what's wrong with calling your kid 'Nick'?" he grumbled. Catherine's mouth fell open and she stared at him for a moment.

"How did you - ?"

Nick grinned cheekily. "What? So it's a crime now to stand behind a door and casually overhear something?" Catherine rolled her eyes and looked to Gil.

"Well fine – okay everybody, so maybe we have something else to tell you." he began.

"The baby?" Sara spoke up languidly as she half-lay against Warrick's chest, the pair of them taking up the other sofa. "It's alright, Grissom – we already know. Congratulations."

"Nick told us," Warrick supplied and was answered by a yelp from Nick as Catherine brought her heel sharply down into his stomach.

"So that's where you get it from." Greg said to Lindsey in wonderment. "I should've known."

"Ow – hey, Cath – watch out unless you want turkey all over your carpet..." Nick warned her, curling up.

"Nice." Sara commented distastefully. Warrick smiled at the top of her head which rested just below his chin.

"Hey, we'd better get going, Sar." he murmured and turned to Catherine and Grissom. "Thanks for the Christmas dinner – and we're sorry about last night."

"Nah – that's alright, 'Rick. As strange and frankly creepy as it was, it was a nice thought," Catherine smiled. "Sort of."

Sara laughed and shook her head as she and Warrick made to let themselves out, calling goodbyes.

"Oh and by the way," Grissom called. "If you two aren't married and without good reason this time next year, you can expect a Christmas visit."

Looking back into the living room, they saw Grissom reach out and pull on one of the Santa beard's they'd left behind. He winked jovially at them as Sara and Warrick left, hand in hand. Then he looked back around the room; at Greg who had shuffled across the floor to sit with his face an inch from the TV screen playing The Little Mermaid, unable to stop himself from yelling out: "No – it's a trap!" while Ursula traded with Ariel onscreen; at Lindsey who took great delight in poking Nick in the stomach without warning and watch him roll over with an exaggerated groan; out of the window at Warrick who roguishly stole Sara's hat from the top of her head as he kissed her on the path; and finally at Catherine who felt his gaze and turned to fix him with her own curious stare.

"What?" she prompted. He shrugged his shoulders.

"I'm just – I'm just happy," he admitted, as though he hadn't expected it. Catherine only smiled and sank back into his arms with a small sigh. Grissom held her tighter and, as Greg shouted more warnings to the oblivious mermaid, inwardly laughed at the bizarreness of the life he so loved all coming together on one very strange Christmas Day.

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Thanks again.