Author's Notes: Hello again, time for chapter two! This one's a little shorter, I'm swamped with work this week. Our night manager's mother was in a very bad accident this weekend, so I'm covering his shift, and I haven't had much of a chance to write. I hope to have another chapter out by this weekend, if I get a good response on this one. It starts off dramatic, and ends with a little comic relief. As you'll probably gather, the next few chapters will be about Greg and Sara, and Catherine's new case...both will be major plots for this story.

Thank you for everyone who replied to chapter one, I enjoy hearing from all of you, so feel free to leave another reply. Lol.

Jenny

Two:

"Sara! Over here!"

Sara turned towards the familiar voice, flashing Ryan an apprehensive smile. He looked a lot better than the last time she had seen him, of course, he was in a business suit instead of an orange jumpsuit, which was always an improvement.

Ryan walked towards her, pulling her bag off of her shoulder and setting it at her feet, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her in for a tight hug, "Oh, Sar, I've missed you so much. Look at you! You've grown up since the last time I saw you."

"15 years have passed, I'd hope so!" Sara joked, "Look at you! My brother, owning his own business! Who would have thought?"

Ryan pulled away, looking at her from head to toe, "Who would know you were in a car accident a few months ago? You look perfect, just like I remembered you."

"Oh, and here I was thinking you wouldn't remember a single thing because of the drugs." Sara replied dryly. She saw the brief look of hurt pass through his features and she shook her head sadly, "Look, I'm sorry, I didn't think before I spoke--"

Ryan shook his head, "No, it's okay. You're right, that whole year was a little fuzzy to me, but I do remember you, Sara. I never forgot about you."

"Neither did I." Sara replied sadly, picking up her bag, "Let's get out of here and start catching up."

"Sounds like a plan, I'll need to run by the office real quick, I forgot some paperwork on my desk, but after that I'm all yours." Ryan agreed, taking the bag from her, "I made us reservations for dinner, I hope you don't mind going out."

Sara laughed, "Ry, I've tasted some of the things you've cooked in the past, and I'm not talking about your brownies. You're a terrible cook, I'd be delighted to go out."

"Haven't changed a bit, have you?" Ryan teased. "I'm so glad you decided to come, I know things have been hard between us--"

Sara shook her head, "That's in the past now, Ryan, let's just work on the future. Life's too short to waste holding grudges and trying to change what has already happened. We'll work on building a relationship now...after all, hasn't everyone always told us that we wouldn't be friendly until we were adults?"

"Come to think of it, I remember that phrase being spoken many times growing up." Ryan agreed, pointing to the parking lot, "See the green Trail Blazer? That one's mine. Just throw your luggage in the back seat and we'll get going. Wait until you meet my partner, he's so funny. You'll love him."

Sara forced a smile, already dreading the interaction. Sure, she loved Ryan, he was her brother, but meeting other corporate owners? That was never her cup of tea, when a businessman tells you his partner is funny, that usually is a recipe for a dull evening.

"So, tell me about this company of yours." Sara said as they pulled out of the parking lot, an awkward silence filling the SUV. "You didn't really go into much detail, except to stress that it was very legal."

Ryan smiled, his face beaming with obvious pride at his accomplishments, "It is very legal, and very useful. We're an independent contractor for DNA testing. We mostly do simple stuff like paternity testing, but sometimes we do third party testing when the courts feel prior testing has been compromised. You'd never imagine how popular DNA testing has become."

"Oh, I have an idea." Sara replied dryly, thinking of the never-ending work of their own DNA lab techs, "It sounds like a good idea."

"We're the only company who lets the average civilian request testing. The other facilities in the area only work with the Houston PD or the Harris County PD or Courts. It's boosted our business quite a bit, we've already doubled our competitions business in the last 4 months," Ryan bragged, "We're already planning on opening an office in the Dallas area, and possibly near Laredo."

There was another long pause, before Ryan asked, "So, how's work going for you?"

Sara sighed, "It's okay, I suppose...it's been really busy, and it's been tough for the last few months since we lost one of our team, but it's the same as always, I suppose. Crime never stops."

They rode in silence for awhile, until pulling into the parking lot of a three-floor building. "Here it is," Ryan said with a smile, "My home away from home. Come in and meet everybody, it's closing time, but there should still be a few stragglers around. I'll show you my office, then we can get out of here."

Sara got out of the car, following Ryan towards the building. "So far, so good." She joked as he pulled out his key card for the front door.

"We use electronic keys and fingerprinting for the entire building, to prevent any unauthorized people from tampering. All of our collections are done in the other wing, where we have a public entrance. From the collection site, there's a restricted access doorway that brings us to this area, where the actual testing is done. We have the newest equipment available, it nearly matches Quantico standards." Ryan said, ushering her in through the open doorway, "My office is upstairs on the left, we have a key entrance downstairs for the elevator, although upstairs you just have to push the button...we assume that anyone upstairs has already been cleared."

Sara shrugged, "Makes sense. You've got a really nice place here. I'm so proud of you."

"Thank you," Ryan said with a pleased smile, his eyes widening as he glanced down the hallway, "Look, there's my business partner now, I want you to meet him."

Sara stopped in her tracks, her face paling considerably as she blinked several times to make sure her eyes weren't deceiving her.

"Sara, this is Greg Sanders, Vice President and co-owner. Greg, this is my little sister, Sara Sidle." Ryan cheerfully greeted, oblivious to the icy chill that had settled in the hallway.

"Greg." Sara said weakly, her voice full of emotion, "Ryan, I'm sorry, I just..."

Unable to form a complete sentence, Sara rushed from the hallway and out the front door.

Greg watched as Sara ran in the other direction, the pain he was feeling evident on his face. He turned to Ryan, "We already knew each other...we used to work together in Vegas. I had no idea that was your sister, you don't have the same last name."

"I took the name of my adoptive family, Sara kept the family name." Ryan said slowly, "I'm guessing it wasn't a happy goodbye?"

Greg sighed, "Far from it, man, I need to go talk to her."

Without waiting for a response, Greg ran towards the door Sara had just exited. Of all people to show up in Houston...this wasn't going to be pretty.

Catherine stared at the photos spread out across the table, her stomach balling into tight knots as she reviewed the evidence she had collected from the crime scene.

Nick had gone to review the autopsy findings with Dr. Robbins, it was too painful for Catherine to even think of.

The photos were of Riley Taylor, the five month old victim of a horrible crime. The entire team knew it was her mother, seventeen year old Hannah Taylor, that had shaken her daughter to death, now they were just waiting on the proof before confronting the teenager.

Hannah Taylor had made the 911 call, calmly telling the operator that her daughter was not breathing and an ambulance needed to be dispatched. According to Hank Peddigrew and Charles Bailey, the two paramedics who arrived on the scene, little Riley was laying on the floor, discarded like yesterday's trash, and Hannah had been sitting on the porch, reading a magazine.

Her odd behavior, did not end there. When Hank had asked what happened, Hannah simply replied, "She was crying, then she stopped. What? I called 911."

While it was a horrible crime, sickening in it's own, what put it into "top priority" standards was Hannah's two slain parents in the next bedroom, Hannah's boyfriend seriously wounded in the kitchen, a knife still embedded deeply into his abdomen.

Catherine had taken it upon herself, despite Grissom's cold stares and quiet requests to stop, to handle young Riley, leaving Grissom and Nick to deal with the others.

Her only evidence? Photos of bruising on Riley's body, a floor mat covered in strawberry-banana baby food, a broken strap on the high chair, and blood samples collected from the bloody wound on the infant's arm.

Nick walked in, his face grim, as he laid some more photos on the table, "She had a diaper rash with weeping blisters, ringworm on her arms and legs, and bruising covering her entire body. Break patters on her arms are consistent with abuse. Grissom wants you off the case, having a new baby...he thinks you'll get emotionally involved."

"Who wouldn't get emotionally involved? She was an innocent, broken child. Who does this to their child? Any child? She wasn't even old enough to defend herself! How can people be so cruel?" Catherine shakily wiped a tear away, hoping Nick hadn't noticed, "You can let Grissom know that if he doesn't want me on this case, he needs to come in and fire me, because I'm not giving it up."

Nick, knowing when to keep his mouth shut, nodded and quietly walked back towards the door, "I'll page you when PD's ready to share Hannah Taylor with us."

Nick left Catherine alone with the photographs, and Catherine heavily sat down on a stool, trying to picture what had happened in her mind. According to the autopsy report, the parents had been dead less than an hour, Riley closer to five hours. Looking at the mess of pictures, Catherine closed her eyes and let them speak to her.

Hannah was a relatively new mother, young, and inexperienced around children. She was working 30 hours a week at the In and Out by their house, going to school, and raising her daughter. She was still in her work clothes when she was arrested, signaling that she had either not had an opportunity to change after her last shift or was on her way to work. Her thoughts flashed back to Lindsey at that age, and she suddenly was able to picture Riley leaned back in her high chair, thwarting Hannah's every effort to feed her.

According to the autopsy, she had fresh bruising on her legs and arms, probably from when Hannah was trying to restrain her. After the baby refuses to eat, all the time screaming from probable hunger, Hannah pushes her against the back of the chair, probably close to tears herself as she tries to get the infant to reason, although she is much to young to do so. After all efforts fail, Hannah grows angry and pulls Riley forcefully from her high chair, ripping the straps, and begins to violently shake her.

A few hours later, her parents come home to find the dead infant and the detached teenager. They panic, Hannah reacts by stabbing them so they don't expose her actions. Enter boyfriend, same scenario. Now, all she had to do was prove it.

The moment the page from Nick came through, she jumped to her feet and was out the door. No one should do this to their child, and she was going to make them pay.

Warrick handing Lyle to Lindsey, glancing at his watch, "Geez, I've got to get out of here. Where the hell is Christina?"

"Chris is never late." Lindsey said softly, patting Lyle's bottom gently and rocking him in her arms, "Maybe you're just early?"

Warrick rolled his eyes, "Don't be a smart aleck, I don't have the time for that. Where did Catherine say the phone number was again?"

"I could babysit, I'm 12, you know. I'd love to babysit Lyle until Chris gets here." Lindsey suggested with a hopeful expression, "I won't charge you much."

Exhaling loudly, Warrick searched for his pager and shoes, "First, you're too young to stay home alone, much less alone with Lyle. Second, when we do decide you're old enough to babysit, you're going to do it for free."

"Karen Carter gets paid to babysit her little sister." Lindsey whined, stomping her foot on the ground, looking down when Warrick's eyes flew to her, "Sorry."

Warrick slid on his shoes, glancing at his watch again, "I don't like your tone of voice, and I don't care what the Carter's let their daughter do. Besides, Karen is 15 and they live with her grandmother. She babysits with her grandmother in the house, it doesn't count. Besides, we buy you enough stuff, what do you need money for?"

"I don't know, just to do stuff?" Lindsey replied, sighing and rolling her eyes.

"What kind of stuff?" Warrick asked sharply, "What can a twelve year old who can't drive and has everything she asks for possibly need money for?"

Lindsey pushed Lyle back into Warrick's arms, "Stop talking to me like you're my Dad! You're not my Dad, okay? Just go away and take that stupid baby with you!"

Lindsey stormed to her room, slamming the door and falling onto her bed, her sobs echoing through the entire apartment. Sighing, Warrick looked down at Lyle, who was watching the exchange with a curious look, "Women, big guy, don't even try to understand them, they'll just confuse you more. What do you think we should do about your big sister, huh? I think it's time for you to take a nap while I try and talk to her...she's definitely her mother's daughter."

He walked to the bassinet and laid Lyle down, "You be a good boy and get some sleep, everything's going to be just fine."

A few minutes later, Lindsey's nervous voice appeared in the hallway, "Um, Warrick?"

"What is it?" Warrick asked, turning around, "If you're here to have another temper tantrum, you may as well head right on back to your room."

Lindsey shook her head, "No...I...uh...I need to call Mom, she needs to come home."

"You can't bother your Mom when she's working. I'm here, what do you need? You can see her in the morning, she'll be home all day tomorrow." Warrick said, a frown on his face. Lindsey was old enough to know how Catherine's job worked, the hours involved. Something was definitely up, if only he could figure out what it was.

Lindsey shook her head, "I'm, uh, sick," her lips quivered as she fought tears that threatened to spill onto her cheeks, "Please Warrick, call Mom and tell her to come home. Chris didn't show up, and we need a babysitter, and I'm sick, she needs to come home."

Warrick's forehead wrinkled in concern. Her being ill would explain her bratty attitude this evening, and if Lindsey was sick, Catherine wouldn't want to leave her alone with a babysitter, unless it was something minor. Then again, what if this was just a ploy Lindsey was using to get some much needed attention? "You're sick? What hurts?"

"My stomach, and it hurts really, really bad." Lindsey insisted, "Please, Warrick, call Mom, I need Mom."

Warrick placed a hand on Lindsey's forehead, "You're not warm, do you want me to stay at home with you?"

"No!" Lindsey shrieked, her eyes widening with surprise, "Not you, I want my Mom," Seeing the hurt look on Warrick's face, she continued, "Besides, if I throw up or something you don't want to have to deal with that, right? That's what Mom's are for."

Warrick's eyes narrowed, "What's really going on?"

"I, uh," Lindsey stammered, before giving in and blurting out, "I think I just started my period."

Warrick's jaw dropped open as he searched for something to say in response. Mentally, he was not only kicking himself for asking her what was wrong, but for even being at home in the first place. As he reached for the cordless phone, he made a mental reminder to always choose work if Catherine gave him the option to go in early or handle the kids for the evening. Always, work. Never girls going through puberty. He cringed as the word puberty entered his mind...this was definitely Catherine's conversation, he wanted nothing to go with it. Maybe in another thirteen years, he'd explain it to Lyle, but for the moment, it was Catherine's turn to field these questions.

"Go, uh, I don't know, take a hot bath or something." Warrick managed to say, still having to search for his words, "I'll try to get Catherine on the phone."

Her face red with embarrassment, Lindsey nodded and fled the room, the bathroom door slamming moments later as her sobs once again filled the apartment's silence.

Looking down at Lyle, who was just dozing off, he whispered, "Didn't I tell you that it was impossible to try to understand them? Where's your mother when we need her?"

TBC