Yeah for another update, my schedule is getting rattled around a lot so I'm not sure I'll be able to update every week. But don't worry I'll try.

I know this has nothing to do with CSI well with one of CSI spinoffs but oh well, does anybody know when CSI: NY premieres in Canada? I mean I haven't been able to catch it at all this week, cause of all those retarded new shows and old shows coming back. Okay they may not be retarded but they still mess up my perfectly organized world. It would be much appreciated if someone knows, I'm an idiot I know.

Thankz for the review:

Mma63: Why thank you and I like Nick too...when he's not bald mate when he's not bald. Not a good look for Nicky.

Plz review and I'll hopefully see you soon with the next chapter. Wow I'm really getting up there in words aye?

Secret Whispers: Chapter Eight Lunatics

The smells, the lights, the place looked exactly the same since the last time Cath had come in here, that was a couple months back when she had asked Sam for a million dollars for Nick's ransom, waste of time that was really. But this time she had dragged Warrick along with her. Even though he was married to Tina, Cath's hopes weren't exactly dashed to pieces, yet. As always she found it hurtful to see her father flirting with young pretty things, while she knew her mother was sitting at her old home, waiting...and waiting...and waiting...

As always those hookers gave Cath 'the inspection' they didn't want any competition of course, would be a lost of business and money. Sam gazed up from his comfortable seat and introduced them to his buddies. "Sa-Dad..." Cath said, "Can I ask you something?...In private?"

Sam smiled an actually genuine smile, "Sure Cath." He dislodged those clingy hookers and followed Cath and Warrick to a more quieter room, "So...what did you wanna aske me?"

Cath opened her portfolio and took out a picture of Ryan, "Do you recognize him?"

Sam frowned slightly and tapped a finger on the polished wooden desk, "His face kinda rings a bell, he works as a waiter at some of my hotels I think. I'll have to check the files, but I'm pretty sure he does work for me."

"You remember this why?" Warrick asked. "There must be 100's of waiters and waitresses here, let alone your other hotels, how come you recognize this perticular one?"

Sam looked down at his perfectly polished shoes, "Because I walked in on him once cleaning the dishes, it was late at night and I thought no one was still here. I was finished some of my paperwork and I had a sudden craving for pickles, I walked in the kitchen. Heard someone talking, thought it was a burgular and low and behold. There he is talking to the dishes, cups, and cuttlery about the weather in french.

"Thought it was just some sort of ploy to get more money out of sympathetic people, but the longer I stayed there, the more his conversations made sense at least as much as a one sided coversation french can get. He moved from pleasantries, if you can call it that, to politics. Now all this french I couldn't understand, but some easy words I could. I think he was scamming the American school system or something about us being stuck up bastards who are too busy studying our wonderful history to ever consider their neighbours up in the north.

"Personally I know he meant Canada and I knew what he was saying was true, but you gotta stand up for your country and be proud. I interrupted him from where I was standing like 5 feet away, he jumped, dropped a dish, and stood there stuttering."

Cath was hooked on to the little story and couldn't let Sam just stop there, "So what happened?"

"Well, I gave him a tongue lashing, he seemed to humble a bit, so I left. The last glimpse I saw of him was of him scurrying off for the broom. Now that I think of it, I never got my pickles."

"Thanks, Dad." hey it was getting easier and easier every time, "That helps a lot."

"Anything for my daughter." He patted her arm and showed Cath and Warrick out the door.

"Well." Warrick said, "That was much pleasanter then I thought it would be."

"Well join the club, so what do we know about this kid?"

"He's schizophrenic?" Warrick asked.

"Or just plain loonie, hopefully he'll have a medical record we can check into."

Maybe it was because it blended in with the other 'gypsy' stuff in 'gypsy' central or that it wasn't exactly flashy, but Greg and Nick had the hardest time finding the Aroura. They drove around in one big circle, Greg pointing out that they had missed the turn again and again, finally Nick's temper were at it's lowest point. Nick was ready to snap, but god took pity on Greg who was the only person nearby and Nick spotted the sign, The Aroura.

They parked the car and studyed the Aroura from a mere 20 paces away from it, no flashy signs that showed off anything provocative, nothing that indicated it was for the homosexuals. Flowering trees, Nick would hazard a guess at them for being fake, shielded the windows effectively from prying eyes. They opened the glass door and walked in, they were greeted by a pretty looking waitress, "For two?" she asked saucilly and winked at another older waitress.

"Um...uh..." Nick stuttered.

Greg rolled his eyes, 'oh crap his brain is shutting down again' so he answered for Nick, "No actually we're here to ask you about your boss, Angelena Vermount."

The pretty waitress frowned, "She didn't come in today, is something wrong?"

"Miss Trevors." wow, you can gather a lot from name tags, thought Greg, "We're afraid that Miss Vermount was found dead in a local park on the other side of the town."

She gasped and gripped a chair as her knuckles turned white, Nick manoevered Trevors and the other lady into chairs so they didn't collapse and hit their heads. Concussions arn't fun, to tell you the truth and the ladies, Greg didn't doubt, would not be happy with huge lumps on the sides of their heads.

"Miss..."

"No no don't call me Trevors...I don't like that name, makes me sound like a guy. Call me Angie and my partner Cassy."

"Angie, Cassy." Nick said soothingly, "Can you think of anyone who might want to hurt Angelena?"

"Besides all the homophobics in the world and her parents, not anyone I know of personally. She was always nice and didn't do anything provocative to nervous people." Angie replied.

"A question, why are you open today? Doesn't the boss open it up?"

"Well she trusts us with the keys, since sometimes she can be held up with personal matters. So if she isn't here, one of us opens it up so we won't have to stand in the cold during winter or bake to death in the summer." said Cassy putting a reassuring arm around a weeping Angie's shoulders, she didn't look far from crying either.

"Do you know a Ryan Anderson?" Greg asked.

"He's a nice kid, helps out when we're full. Too bad he's not gay, cause I know a couple of guys itching for him." Cassy said smiling slightly as tears streamed down her face leaving mascara tracks, "I remember he threw them out as soon as one of them pulled him onto his lap and spilled the drinks all over the place. He was muttering nonsense the rest of the evening."

"Thank you for you time and I'm sorry for your lose." Greg said as he and Nick got up to leave.

"You know." said Angie, "If ever you guys wanna come over for a drink, it'll be on the house."

"Yeah thanks, by the way who gets the place after Angelena dies?"
"Well, I'm not sure. You'll have to read her will, she's been jumping round it forever. She was totally certain that she wouldn't die when she was old and rotting away senile in a chair. I guess her wish won't come true now." said Angie sadly and started crying all over again.

Nick and Greg left after trying to console the crying the waitresses, but nothing could be done. Nick's cell rang as soon as they stepped out the door, "Stokes, oh hey Cath. What...really? Now that's interesting, kay bye."

"So?"

"Cath was too interested in this little story to remember asking Sam if Ryan was working there that night."

"Oh oh oh, I love stories, so what's it about?"

"All in short they think he's gone over the moon with what he was doing. Apparently he was talking in french to the dishes he was suppose to be washing in the Rampart."

"Ohhh, even I haven't done that before."

"That's what scares me."
"Really? Someone talking in a foreign language to dishes, scare you?"

"Slightly."

"I'll be sure to do more of that then." Greg said teasingly.

"Don't, you dare."

"Oh I dare, I dare."

"I'll clobber you." Nick threatened.

"Undoubtly, but I'll still do it."

"ARGH!"

Greg grinned the grin that lite up about everything within a 100 mile radius, even pissed off Nick grinned. Nick slung an arm over Greg's shoulder and proceeded to head back to the lab. Before they were even at their car Greg burst out, "You know what? I think they were implying something back there."

"What?" Nick asked completely lost.

"Well it's for gays and stuff right? If we come in there for a drink it'll make us look gay and we being a..."

Nick hit Greg hard over the spiky head.