Greetings! Thanks again for your reviews, they mean a ton. There are three people in particular that I would like to address before we move on:

SueBlue32 – Cute alliteration, does it mean anything? Thank you for alerting me to my spelling mistake, although a politer turn of phrase would be appreciated.

Ellie – Thank you for the compliment, and for telling me about that. My previous source, it appears, was giving me misinformation. I did a little deeper research into it and realized that you are, indeed, correct. I've fixed the summary according to the International High IQ Society's chart, which is as follows:

70-84 Well below the population average.

85-99 Below the population average, but in the normal range.

100 The population average.

101-115 Above the population average, but in the normal range.

116-125 Significantly above average.

127-140 Gifted.

141-159 Highly gifted.

160+ Profoundly gifted.

180+ Universal genius.

Mickey – Thank you for reminding me. You may find that I will accidentally switch off between the two, actually. I have known at least five 'Sara's in my life and not one has spelled their name 'Sara' that I am aware of, so it's kind of ingrained you know? Thanks!

TO EVERYONE ELSE: If you would like to test your own IQ, simply Google search "IQ". Both Tickle and the International High IQ Society have online intelligence tests that I find quite accurate (judging by my experience taking them next to a professionally administered test)

I appreciate your willingness to forgive my oversights, as I quite obviously do not have an IQ as high as the character's I'm writing about. Also, I should post a slight AU warning. The team is still/back together, Sara and Catherine are not fighting, and what the heck is this I hear about Eddie being dead? O.o; Greg is split between the field and the lab on occasion, hence his participation in the perimeter sweep here. Any improper jargon is my own fault, naturally, as is any bad grammar. There's a reason I've fail two English classes to date. Anyway. Love to you all!

Note: I'm sorry for the lengthy author's notes, it won't happen again :huggles everyone:

Oh, and I disclaim any and all rights to everyone except Dr. Lillian James. Thank you. :bows:

"Cath, what do you make of this?" Warrick said, pointing at the hammer laying on the ground. Catherine knelt down to examine what looked like a dark rust. A sweep with her flashlight reveled dried blood.

"Bag it. It might not be our murder weapon, they were stabbed, but blood is blood." She stood up and turned around to find Sara and Greg arriving.

"How does it look?" Sara asked, jogging up. Catherine shook her head.

"The one dead at the door was killed an hour after the two upstairs in bed."

"That's odd. I'll go check it out."

"Greg's on perimeter with Nick and Warrick." Catherine said. Greg nodded and went to find Nick, who was closer to the back of the house.

Sara stepped gingerly inside the house, avoiding stepping in the puddle of blood that nearly stretched across the foyer.

"Catherine says that we've got an odd situation with the bodies." Sara said.

"Yes, we do." Grissom acknowledged. "The bodies upstairs have been dead longer than this one here."

"She said. What does that mean?"

"That's what the evidence is going to tell us."

"Mr. Grissom?"

"Yes?" Grissom turned to glance into the kitchen, where Lillian was. She skimmed her flashlight over the counter where five knives were neatly laid out in order.

"Who lays their knives like this? And I smell sodium hypochlorite. A lot of it."

"They cleaned up, then." Grissom said. He walked into the kitchen and looked around. Two tall Gatorade bottles were balanced precariously on a toilet paper tubes in the sink.

"What's that?" He asked.

"I haven't gotten there yet." Lillian said sharply. "I just came in, I can't examine an entire kitchen in two minutes. I can tell you that they were very organized about their cutlery, though." She waved to the perfectly lined up and laid out silverware drawer. "And it smells clean. Like a hospital pool house."

"Keep working. Sara and I are going upstairs. Catherine will be in the bedroom."

Lillian stood in the silent kitchen, eyes scanning everything again for something out of place. She made her way over to the sink to examine the setup. She quirked her head to the side as she noticed the smell. She wrinkled her nose.

"Willows!" She called into the living room. "I've got potentially dangerous chemicals here!" She reached out to take them off their perch before they could be felled by a passing plane overhead.

She heard a knock on the kitchen door. She turned around to find Greg's face in the window, waving. Lillian rolled her eyes. The door opened noiselessly.

"How are you today, Dr. James? Back door was left unlocked and opens quietly."

"Point of entry? Just process the scene, Mr. Sanders." Lillian said, picking the bottles off their perch. She held it up and fanned her hand over the mouth of the bottle.

"Ammonia." She chocked slightly. She set the bottle in a less precarious potion on the counter and picked up the other. "And bleach." She examined the tubes that were holding the bottles up. "And fishing line."

She followed the line up through a few small eyehooks in the ceiling to the refrigerator.

"Now why didn't I catch this?" She asked herself, glad that she examined the sink before the refrigerator. She opened it and watched at the taut line pulled and knocked over the cylinders. She shuddered slightly to think of what would happen if she had opened the door before taking the chemicals out of the sink.

She slowly scanned the refrigerator, still searching for anything the least bit out of place. All she discovered was that they seemed to like foreign food.

"You have anything?" Catherine asked, walking into the kitchen.

"Spanish Rice, fresh exotic fruits, four kinds of French cheese, three bottles of Italian wine in various stages of empty, Teriyaki, Onigiri, Wasabi, a jar of… vegemite…" Lillian sighed. "They like foreign food. None of it is take-out."

"Vegemite? Where the heck did they get that?" Catherine asked.

"Same place they got packaged onigiri. They must travel a lot." Lillian said, pointing to the authentic Japanese packaging.

"Onigiri? That green triangle thing? How do you know?"

"O… ni… gi… ri." She said, pointing out the Japanese characters. "I took a basic course when I was nine." She explained to Catherine's odd look. "That's aside the point entirely, anyway."

"So we have three dead, one by the door later than the one upstairs, some bottles rigged to the refrigerator poised to set off noxious gases… And a ton of foreign food. No prints that I can find… Let's hope Sara and Grissom have something we don't."

-

"Oh, lovely. Castoff all over…" Sara said, staring at the walls. The bodies were positioned serenely on the bed, laying straight with their hands folded on their chests.

"They look like they're ready for their funerals already." Grissom said as he set his kit down. They began to process the scene, speaking little and working quickly. Sara photographed things here and there, but overall (aside from the blood) the room was clean, neat and tidy.

"I don't think there's much left here. Our killer was thorough." Sara said after almost an hour. She glanced out the street-facing window. One cop car was left, as well as Catherine's car, and a Jeep she didn't recognize. After a moment, she saw Lillian walking to the jeep.

"Lillian is only 15. How does she have a license?"

"Special permit for working teens." Grissom said briskly. "I had to sign a form for her to get it. Pack it up, let's get all this to the lab."

"Alright."

--

"No, I can't… It's very bad form, we're in the middle of a case, and--… I already said. Look, I'll call you back at break, but Im not goi—" Lillian flipped her cell phone shut with a light huff when she heard the abrupt click on the other end. She tossed it into the passenger seat on top of her scene kit.

"Who was that?" Catherine asked as she passed the car.

"Personal." Lillian replied shortly. She turned the key in the ignition, glanced up and down the street, checked her mirrors and took off for the lab.

Catherine brushed it off and went to her own Tahoe. She was ready to get back to the lab. The already dark sky was overcast and she didn't want to even think about rain. She chuckled lightly when she realized that Lillian would probably have to pull over to put the cover up on her jeep.

Greg, Nick and Warrick had finished up outside ten minutes prior and were gone. Sara would catch a lift back with Grissom, naturally. Catherine slipped a CD into the player and tried to relax on her way back to the lab.

She tried and failed. While Lillian was on her mind, she couldn't help it. Why did the girl resent Warrick so much? She ran trough her head every single thing that separated Warrick from everyone else.

"Pretty eyes, ex-gambler, but how would she know that…? Tall… Really sweet, soft spot for kids. What could she possibly find wrong with him?" Catherine mused. She honestly could see nothing that separated him in a negative manner.

She pulled into the lab and focused her mind back on the case.

--

"New case just came in, very easy." Grissom said. "Dr. James, I think you can handle it on your own. Hit and run just off the strip."

Lillian looked up from her papers. Various DNA printouts, a tox report, and a few others. She nodded silently and stood. She handed the folder and papers to Grissom before leaving.

She left the building quickly and made it to her car. She took a deep, calming breath.

"No big deal, it's just a hit and run. That I'm working solo on my first night." She groaned softly. "What I wouldn't give for high school. Just once." She said, firing up her jeep and rolling out of the parking lot. She pulled up, not ten minutes later, to the scene. She approached the officer on the scene.

"Dr. James, I'm with the Crime Lab."

"So you're the new CSI everyone has been raving about, are you?" The man said with a grin. He reminded her vaguely of the man that she went to for strength training for her physical education credit two years ago. "Sergeant O'Reily, I'm with homicide." He stuck a hand out to shake. Lillian took it. "Body's over here. Witnesses say that he literally was knocked off his feet by a sports car. May have been a corvette, they were more concerned with the victim to make sure note. He apparently rolled over the top, bounced up off the spoiler and landed. The diver didn't even slow."

"Thank you, Sergeant." Lillian said, looking over at the body. It was laying in the middle of the street, crumpled in a heap. "You're with Homicide, you say? What makes anyone thing this is a homicide? Looks to me like a negligent driver who thinks he can get away with killing a man…." She scanned the scene. "Until you notice the skid marks as they swerved to hit the poor man on purpose." She amended. O'Reily nodded.

"Witness said that he was in his own lane, and that the man was walking in the other. The car swerved into the lane where the man was walking."

"So we're looking at a murder, not an ordinary hit and run." Lillian deadpanned as she began marking and taking pictures of the scene, skid marks, body and then some. She collected several pieces of what appeared to be a broken headlight, then allowed the coroner to take the body away as she continued processing.

"Is it the least bit odd, watching a mere teenager process a scene almost as efficiently as Gil Grissom would?" An officer nearby asked O'Reily. O'Reily shrugged.

"You haven't heard about this girl? Three degrees in various scientific subjects, almost countless seminars and short courses in just about everything related to the forensic and psychological business. She's a child prodigy of the highest order. No wonder LVPD snapped her up the moment she announced that she was looking into the field."

Nearby, Lillian heard every word. Inwardly, she seethed at these people, rattling off facts about her as if they knew her. Almost like she was a commodity of sorts.

She returned to the lab, dropped off some stuff at Trace and went to the break room.

She refrained from sighing as everyone was in there, eating lunch. She went to the refrigerator and pulled out a brown bag. Sitting on a chair in the corner, she pulled out a bottled smoothie and a small bag of almonds. She ate them quietly, waiting for the page telling her that trace was finished with her things, or that the AV lab had processed her photographs for her to refer back to.

"Lillian, why don't you sit with us?" Sara offered. Lillian looked up, startled.

"No, thank you." She said somewhat shortly. She stood, ignoring the curious looks, and left the break room.

"She's a weird one." Greg said, balancing a small chunk of his re-heated meatloaf on the back of his spoon before he ate it. Sara raised an eyebrow.

"And you aren't?" Nick teased.

Lillian worked in the lab, processing and testing samples gathered from the homicide earlier in the evening. Soon, the results for a test from the triple homicide were printing. She debated leaving them there for Greg to take, but decided to deliver them to Grissom immediately anyway. Greg chose that moment to walk it, relieving Lillian of the decision anyway.

"Mr. Sanders, take this to Mr. Grissom. Semen analysis, it appears, from the homicide earlier this evening."

Greg scanned the printouts, groaning loudly. "Two donors!" He asked.

"I know I'm no longer working that one, but would it be possible that the woman by the door was an accomplice in the murder of the two upstairs? Then the second male killed her to tie up loose ends?" Lillian suggested.

"Thanks…" Greg looked at her, eyebrow raised. She didn't see, though, because she was buried back in work. He walked out, muttering "Odd indeed."