A/N: I don't really have much to say this time. It's to late (or early depending on how you look at it) to be funny or witty. But I will say this, some of ya'll are gonna be mad at me -glances at Talk CSI girls- Iwill make up for it, promise.And as always,thanks for the reviews. I love them to what I am sure is an unhealthy degree. Now, without further ado, chapter six:

Chapter Six: Discoveries

Warrick plucked the bill from the waste basket, shaking off bits of paper that clung to it. He recognized that number. He'd seen it a few times on the caller ID. He'd asked Tina who it had been and she claimed that it was just a wrong number and he'd dismissed it. But why would she be calling a wrong number, repeatedly, from her cell phone?

He got that feeling that usually preceded a big break in a case. A hunch. And his hunches were usually right.

All vestiges of fatigue now gone, Warrick crossed to the desk. Glancing at the bill, he punched in the numbers 1-702-251-6053.

The ringing in his ear seemed to last an hour, although it was, in reality, only a minute or so before it was answered.

"Hey, you've reached David. Sorry you couldn't reach me I..."

Warrick's movements were slow as he remembered the phone from his ear and sat in gently on the cradle.

There was only one reason for Tina to be calling David on his cell. Especially, when the calls occurred while he wasn't around. And why else would she play dumb about whose number was on the caller ID.

Tina was having an affair.

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Three hours later, Warrick sat on the living room sofa, deep in thought. He tried to apply the team's motto, or perhaps more accurately, Grissom's mantra "never assume" to his personal life as well.

So instead of jumping to conclusions, he'd done what he did best: collected evidence.

The first thing he did was call Cingular, asking for them to check the outgoing and received calls for that number. He jotted down the information they gave him with the same cool detachment he would a cases test results, surprising himself with his calm.

Next, he got on the computer.

On a case a little while back, Archie had told him that even though you hit the delete key, the information remains. That with a few clicks of the right keys, that information could be called forth as though you'd done nothing at all. Then he'd showed him how.

Warrick had never thought he'd use that knowledge, but there he'd sat in front of the glowing monitor, shocked by what he was reading. He'd printed out the information, adding it to his notes and the cell phone bill. Mirthlessly, he'd laughed at the thought that he'd prepared as though he was going to trial.

In a way, he was.

The scraping and jingling sound of keys in the lock broke into his thoughts and he looked up just as the door swung inward.

Tina walked in and pushed the door shut, turning the lock. She turned around and jumped, surprised to find him on the couch.

One hand flew to her chest as the other instinctively clutched her rounded belly. A purse dangled from her elbow.

"Jeez, baby. You scared me!" she laughed. "What're you doing up? Didn't you work a double?" A small smile tugged at her lips as she sat down her purse and looked at him.

He didn't answer. Instead, he held up the small stack of papers, the Cingular Wireless bill taking place of honor in front.

She glanced at it confusion in her eyes. Then the confusion turned to dread and the smile slipped from her face.

"Oh God, Warrick-"

"I don't think God had anything to do with it."

Her mouth opened and closed a few times but no sound came out, and tears flooded her eyes. "Warrick, I...Don't be mad, Rick. It-it didn't mean anything, Warrick. I swear it was just..." her voice trailed off and she gave a small shrug, her gaze dropping.

Warrick watched her, taking it all in. The trembling lip, the tears, the rounded hump of her stomach. He sighed. "I'm not."

She looked at him, confused. "What?"

"I'm not mad."

Bewilderment was evident in her face. "You're not mad?" she asked slowly and shook her head. "How can you...?"

It was an obvious question. How could he not be mad?

He sighed again. "Because...two months ago..."

Her eyes widened and she sank into a chair. "You mean you...?"

He gave a slight nod. "It was a mistake."

"Who-" she shook her head. "Never mind, it doesn't matter." She closed her eyes and massaged her forehead. "How long?"

"Just once. Heat of the moment."

She nodded slowly and sat forward, sniffling. She looked him in the eyes, his tired and hurt, hers red, puffy and scared. "What do we do now, Warrick?" she asked.

Warrick sighed and looked at her.

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Seventy-two hours later, Catherine walked into the break room. She was famished and there was a Gladware container of seafood salad in the fridge with her name on it. She pulled it from the refrigerator and sniffed it. She couldn't remember exactly when she'd put it in there but it smelled ok, and she was too hungry to care.

She sat at the table and started a crossword puzzle, munching away. About halfway through the container, she got that unpleasant feeling in her stomach that preceded an even more unpleasant act.

Oh no. Just couldn't settle for the vending machine could you? Catherine thought, rising from her seat and making a beeline for the ladies room.

She barely made it to the first stall before she was reacquainted with her lunch.

When she was confident that dry heaves was all that her body could produce, she leaned against the stall and closed her eyes, wiping her sleeve across her mouth. She didn't even hear the door open.

"You okay?"

Catherine jumped at the sound of Sara's voice, grimacing at the waves the action sent through her stomach. She nodded weakly.

"You don't look okay," she asked concerned.

"I'm fine. I just need a minute. Bad seafood."

Sara didn't say anything, but kept a wary eye on Catherine.

Catherine pushed off the floor and started to stand but a wave of dizziness hit her and she slide back down the wall. "Oh, God."

"Cath, you need help. I'll go get Nick-"

"No!" she groaned, her head did not agree with the loud, sudden outburst. She tried again, quieter this time. "No. Just," she took a deep breath and let it out. "Just help me up."

Sara glanced at the door a little longingly before stooping to help Catherine up. "You need to go home."

Catherine was quiet for a minute before sighing. "Yeah...uh, tell Grissom, well, tell him the truth. I got sick."

Sara shook her head. "No way are you driving home. I'll tell him after I take you home."

Catherine looked as though she was going to debate the point, but she just nodded. "Ok."

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It had taken Catherine a while to convince Sara that she was fine. But even then, Sara had made sure that Catherine had everything she needed to be comfortable, and some things she didn't. She'd done everything but tuck her in and kiss her forehead.

Who knew Sara could be such a mother hen? Catherine thought with a small smile.

The house was empty and quiet, Lindsey was at school and Catherine was alone. She sat in the living room staring at a day time talk show for fifteen minutes before giving up the pretense of being interested. She glanced at the phone, hesitating only briefly before picking it up and dialing a number from memory.

"Hey Roz? Yeah, this is Catherine...I'm good thanks. How 'bout you?" she listened. "Good. Hey, I know this is short notice but do you think you could come over?" she paused. "Yeah, today. Bring your stuff...Lecture me when you get here," she said with a grin. "Thanks Roz. Bye."

Roz wouldn't be there for about an hour. An hour where Catherine had nothing to do but think.

A/N: -automated voice-You've now reached the end of the chapter, please leave a review after the beep. But first a teaser: Roz was gone, had been for about an hour,and Catherine sat on her couch deep in thought.

The notion had crossed her mind, but she hadn't dwelled on it. She couldn't. She was too afraid to. But now that there were no doubts, she'd have to face that fear.

Thank you for reading (BEEP!)