Disclaimer is back in Chapter One, but I'll reiterate that I don't own any character from the show "CSI."

Well, guys, I'm going on vacation for a week, so I thought I'd post the next TWO sections of the story! Enjoy!

A psychiatrist friend who dabbled in New Ageiness had once told Grissom that the animal he was most closely associated with was a duck. When he had asked for an reason, she explained, "You appear quite calm and put together on the surface. Underneath, though—you're paddling like crazy. You're always thinking; you're a cagy thinker. You're always busy and making sure you know your next move." He had thought that was an unusual but apt observation.

His mind had been fixated nearly to the point of distraction on one topic lately—Sara. Grissom, despite her former crush on him, still felt very paternal towards her. He had noticed that she'd distanced herself from him at work in the past six months; he had told himself that she was growing as a professional. He had been proud of her.

But the thing with her cousin, and those two girls? He didn't know what to make of it. He was hurt that she hadn't come to him, hadn't invited him to see her new house, hadn't invited him to the dinner party she'd apparently thrown. When he said something slightly bitter and snarky about it to Catherine, she had responded, "Get over yourself, Gil. You're her boss. She respects you as a boss. She had the boys over b'cause they're all friends." Amazingly, Catherine couldn't care less.

He had finally met the girls; the night she brought them into the lab. They seemed smart and pleasant enough, he assumed. He'd been sort of aloof with them. They had obviously been a little awkward and were putting something on in front of him, so he had excused them quickly so they wouldn't be uncomfortable any longer. Later, he'd heard the taller one—Julia?—tell Sara, "Your boss is sort of odd. Distant, I guess."

Sara had replied, "That's just Grissom being Grissom." Before, she would have rationalized his behavior. But she had changed. She had moved on.

The thing that hurt him most, though, was that she was obviously under a lot of stress and she hadn't turned to him for advice or comfort—comfort being support, not the…other kind. She was coping with a dying cousin, buying a house, virtually adopting two teenagers who were practically adults anyways who probably were hell-raisers because of everything going on. Instead, she'd turned to Nick and Greg, and included even Warrick in her life.

He wanted to be included. He wanted to be her friend, but wasn't sure how.

She flashed in front of his office as she fled to one of the lab—a tall, angularly narrow flash of a person. "Sara, come in here for a moment."

"Yeah?—I've got to get those test results from the Shaul case, and there's some evidence I have to put back into the locker for the Westborough—"

"No, just sit down for a minute."

"Fine," Sara swung a chair towards her using her foot. She knew she was being slightly short with Grissom, but she had a lot on her mind. It was Saturday night; the girls started school Monday so she was taking tomorrow off but was probably going to come in because the Westborough case had her around the neck, and, when she arrived home that morning, Lilly had informed her that Dr. Ringo wanted a home health nurse moving in with them. The girls and Sara had gone futon shopping that afternoon so the nurse could sleep in Lilly's room, and the nurse—Jessie—was moving in on Monday. The house was a mess and Sara at least wanted to make the impression that things were still totally under control. There were still a million boxes everywhere. Plus, Nick had called to make plans for their night, "before you find an excuse." Sara had replied blushingly that she didn't want to find an excuse, or she would have found one already. They were going to have dinner and a movie Thursday night. All of which would be wonderful, but she had been on the futon shopping excursion during the conversation. The girls had heard everything and had eagerly asked questions, made gushy noises, and Jules even cooed. They had spent the rest of the day teasing Sara and telling her how wonderful Nick was. "What's up?" she asked Grissom. He looked distinctly uncomfortable.

"How are you doing?"

"Well, we got the substance out of her fingernails—it's from a hookah, one of those flavored cigarettes. Nate, her boyfriend, says they did smoke them that night. There's some evidence of it in her lungs, too, remember. We also found some fibers in her throat that Hodges is analyzing right now. There's also a sticky substance around her mouth that's being analyzed. Video cameras at Wynn show them leaving there about eight, already drunk. They went to the Bellagio and the Aladdin—she was last seen alive at about nine-fifty back at the Bellagio fountains. The boyfriend still maintains that he last saw her in her room at Wynn around ten. That was her bedtime because of the five AM practices. The TOD from suffocation was between 10 and 10:30."

"No—I mean—with everything else?"

"Like the Shaul case? I've only been to the house once. Everything's preliminary

right now." Sara and Greg had opened a new case the previous night—a breaking and entering that led to an assault.

"No—everything else. Like your cousin?"

Oh. "She's fine. Thanks, though."

"Cause, if you need it—the time's there. You can take time off."

"Thank you. But as of now we're all doing fine, so I will still be coming in to work."

"Okay," Grissom said uneasily and tried again, "How are those girls? Have they started school yet?"

"They start Monday. That's why I took tomorrow night off." She said, trying not to show how uncomfortable she was.

"They're good students, right?"

"Yeah. They're looking at college and everything. They would probably be obsessing over it, but—you know. They've got other things on their minds."

"How's your cousin feeling?"

"Lilly's doing fine, Grissom. As well as can be expected." She looked at the clock. "May I go get my test results now?" she knew it was blunt, borderline rude even, but she had to get working.

Grissom looked slightly taken aback, and then hardened his face into a bland,

blasé look. "Yes. Of course. Keep me updated on your cases."

"Of course." She smiled and walked out.

"Hey, Sar, what's up?" Greg bounced up to her as she walked to DNA.

"Not much." She lied, looking back at Grissom's office to make sure she was out of hearing range. "I think Grissom just tried to show concern."

"What do you mean?"

"Like, he obviously feels concern, but he tried to express it. I think. He was asking me about the girls, and Lilly, and when they started school and stuff."

"Monday, right?"

"Yeah. It was just weird." Sara rubbed her eyes. "I don't know. I'm not gonna think about it right now."

"Maybe he's just growing up, too."

"Yeah. You two should start a Maturity Club."

"Huh?"

"You know—cause you're growing up too, and becoming a serious CSI."

"Sara—I meant you. Growing up."

"Huh?" It was Sara's turn to be confused.

"It's hardest to notice when it's yourself that's changing." Greg's voice was almost wise. "But, you've grown up lately. Taking in the girls, and being strong for them, and looking out for them and Lilly and all."

"Oh." Sara mulled it over. "Greg, you might be right. I hadn't noticed."

"See? You're always the last one to know when you've changed. Now, let's look at those results." Sara realized they'd arrived at Trace, where Hodges was going to tell them what the substance in Skylar's throat was.