A/N This chapter is also a response to an Unbound challenge. First and Last lines provided. As always, I own nothing related to CSI. Sadly.

A word of warning: I am doing this fic in true improvisational style. I have chosen not to think about the next chapter till the next lines are posted. I hope you'll let me know how it's working.

It was a quarter to twelve, just minutes away from the start of yet another new year. Grissom's office didn't offer the solace he was searching for, with Catherine sitting, feet propped up on his desk and an all too innocent expression on her face. He sighed as he pushed open the back door of the lab and slipped into the darkness beside the stairwell. He wished for a moment that he hadn't given up smoking more than a decade before. Cath meant well, he knew; though he also knew she had heard of yesterday's blow-up with Sophia, and wanted all the juicy little details. So Catherine. He would have to wait her out, her shift was well past over, and it was New Year's Eve. He knew she most certainly would have some plans.

He knew, too, that eventually, he would tell her about the scene with his newest CSI, right down to his assigning her this evening's decomp, solo. And she would patiently dole out sage advice, or perhaps not so sage advice, one could never tell with Catherine. She would remind him that Sophia was still an unknown element, and urge him not to forget too soon her ties with Ecklie. Or her reputation as difficult to get along with. She'd remind him how bad he was at politics, then patiently explain the new office regime, in that long-suffering tone that he knew he deserved, but hated all the same. She'd warn him against making an enemy of Sophia, even as strongly as she had warned him against making a friend of her. The she'd start in on how this all tied into Sara.

Sara.

It was easier to think about Sophia, and all the complications having her on his shift among his people, had brought to his life, than it was to think about his reaction to yesterday's prank and Sara. He told himself, as surely as he would later tell Catherine, that he would have been as angry had it been Greg covered in paint, or his head nearly hit with the can. Sophia's prank was anathema to the carefully nurtured team spirit that had made the former night shift so successful, and such a joy to work with. But some dark, niggling part of his brain wondered-Would he have even noticed, had it been Greg? Or even Sara six months ago, before he vowed to look at her, to see her more often?

He shied away from the answer to that question, turning his eyes up to the light show gracing the sky. Sophia. Easier to think about how to handle Sophia Curtis than it was to think that maybe Ecklie was right about him and his team. Maybe he hadn't noticed enough about what was going on around him, maybe he wasn't good for them. And now, this rift between Sophia and the others certainly wasn't good for his new team.

"She was Ecklie's right hand for almost as many years as I was yours, Gil. People don't forget that sort of thing quickly."

"Catherine." Grissom glanced up, and then stepped to the side, making room for the swing-shift supervisor in the shadows of the building. "No party?"

She shrugged, "Lindsey wanted to spend New Year's with her grandmother. And…I really wasn't in the mood for a celebration." She paused, her eyes locking with his. "You need to go carefully here, Gil."

"It's not that dark out here, Cath."

The frustrated sigh he'd come to know so well over the years of their friendship blew across the space between them, "Don't be obtuse on purpose Gil, it's not an attractive trait. You know what I'm talking about."

Cath was treated to, in turn, the resigned sigh that she'd come to expect if he stayed around long enough to listen to her haranguing, "Sophia."

Catherine nodded, "Yup." She looked away then, her eyes moving to the brilliant rosebuds blossoming in the sky. "And Sara."

"This isn't really about…"

Catherine cut him off with a raised hand, though her eyes didn't leave the traditional New Year's pyrotechnics. "It is. In a way. Look Gil…I'm not going to lecture you about your personal relationship with Sara. Though God knows…" She paused, leaning back against the building with another long sigh. "This…Supervisor stuff. I understand better now how difficult it is. Just…don't give Ecklie any more ammunition, all right? If he heard about yesterday…"

"Even Ecklie isn't stupid enough to approve of childish pranks Cath. Especially dangerous ones."

She nodded slowly, "Maybe not. Even so…he's fishing Gil. You've already made him your enemy. I'd be careful not to add Sophia."

"You don't like her."

"No." She looked at him then, and grinned. "I don't. But that doesn't matter. Take a piece of advice from someone who isn't as bad at office politics as you. Keep your enemies close."

"We don't know she's an enemy."

"After yesterday," Catherine shook her head, her hands coming to pose on her hips, "Do you really think she's a friend?" At his silence she nodded. "Right."

For a moment, Grissom thought she was done, and that he had escaped the more personal facet of her advice. Then her voice drifted out of the shadows again. "It's interesting though, isn't it?"

He was tempted to ignore her, if he ignored her, there was a chance she would stop talking. Fifteen years of friendship though, told him that even in Vegas, no one would take those odds. "What is?"

"Oh," she waved her hand airily, "Why Sophia would choose Sara to take out her frustrations on." She moved her eyes from his, then, back to the heavens. "And why it made you so angry that even the lab techs on swing are buzzing about it."

"Catherine." A warning.

"Just think about it Gil. That's all I'm asking."

He grunted, and then straightened after a moment. "Are we done here?"

Catherine's lips twitched as she jerked her head above them. "Seems like it." As she spoke, the last of the fireworks displayed their brilliance in the sky.