In this chapter and for the rest of the story their will be a rather frequent mention of doughnuts / donuts. I am gona stick with doughnut coz that's how I'm used to spelling it so don't think it's just a spelling mistake.

My last comment is please please please review even if you hate the story or if the review is only one word. (PS. SH you can't hit me around the head with your German folder anymore, I told you I would update…eventually!)

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Unsure of what to do next, he strolled back over to his car and picked up the doughnut that he had been half way through eating earlier. He was about to take a bite when he spotted a tall, slim woman harassing one of the rookie officers. The woman looked furious while the officer looked incredibly frustrated and, although he was trying his very best to keep his temper under control, Brass had a feeling that, if he didn't intervene, the department was going to be facing a lawsuit for harassment (or quite possibly severe bodily harm the way things were going) very soon. Sighing heavily, he put the doughnut back on the dashboard of his car and started walking over to the bickering pair.

" What seems to be the problem here Ma'am?" he asked in his usual curt manner.

" Are you in charge because if you're not I'm not talking to you about the problem and," she said in a perfectly calm, snooty, English accent," neither am I leaving until my questions have been answered". She said the last bit slightly pointedly at the rookie officer who then decided that Brass had the situation under control and so wandered off.

" Yes Ma'am. I am the detective in charge but if you're with the press I'm afraid there's really nothing more I can say other than what has already been said in the official press release." For a woman who had been close to erupting a seconds earlier, she seemed very calm (and rather rude) to Brass.

" I am not with the press. That" she said waving towards the edge "is my boy and these morons wont let me see him."

" Um…! How can you be so sure it's your son?"

" He went out last night and didn't come back and he fits the description."

Brass was rather stunned and wasn't quite sure what to say or do. If he let the woman see the body and it wasn't her kid, he would be in trouble but, if it was, they could save time on getting an ID. Would she be able to identify the body even if it was her son? The face was pretty distorted. He could take DNA and match it to the boy's but that would take time. Another thing that bothered him was how the woman could be so sure it was her son and yet be so calm. However, he pushed his final thought to the back of his mind and got back to the problem at hand.

He took a moment more to ponder before realising there really was a reason why he had decided to work with the deceased rather than the living. As there were no social workers around, he decided to find the closest possible thing – Catherine.

He whistled to a nearby officer motioning him to stand with the woman, who was now inspecting her nails, and headed towards Catherine. However, before he got very far his phone went off. Looking down he saw that it was, the so-far missing, Warrick.

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He was late. Really late. Catherine was going to be so pissed. Now that he thought about it, Grissom wouldn't be too happy either, but the man never expressed his emotions. This meant that while he was getting a stern lecture off Catherine about being on time and some snide and rather unhelpful comments from Brass about getting him a watch for Christmas, Grissom would be stood behind them giving him the all-famous disappointed look.

He did actually have an excuse but he would rather face the lecture from his bosses than the crap he would get off Greg and Nick (when he got back) if they got wind of it. So for now he would just have to face up to it and keep his cool (which he was renowned for doing). Sooner or later the guys would work it out but he'd do his best to make sure it was the latter.

Again he glanced at his watch. Damn it! Why the hell was there so much traffic at 10am? Shouldn't everyone be at work already? He hit the wheel in frustration. All around him people were yelling but he couldn't see how that was going to help in their current situation. As his last thread of patience snapped, he got out of the car to go and see what the problem was. The site that greeted him was definitely not what he expected.

"Da-amn!"

About 20m ahead of him stood a car. Not on four wheels like some of the cars around. Not on two wheels like other cars and the bikes around. Not even on one wheel like one of the bikes whose front wheel was half way into a ground floor window. This car was driving up a lamppost, resting on its back bumper.

The cops had already arrived so he got his badge out of the glove box, locked his car and started to make his way over. He recognised Officer Green from a case he had worked a couple of months earlier. He showed his badge to the rookie that was in charge of keeping the public at bay and ducked under the yellow tape making his way over to the officer.

"Hey man! What's the deal here? Need my expertise?"

"Warrick! Hi! Long time no see. You get caught in the traffic?"

"Yeah. It's backed up till the strip! What happened?"

"Some drunken lady tried to turn around in the middle of the road. Leaving us with one hell of a mess. Three dead, twelve on the way to Palms and some are still trapped in their cars, including the drunken lady."

"This drunken lady, is she dead?"

"Dunno. The paramedics haven't been able to get close enough to tell but at the very least she's knocked out. Good thing to. The engines fallen through and landed flat bang on her legs and, no matter how well your cooling system is, that engine is gona be Hot. It'll be a miracle if her legs make it through this. But then again maybe she deserved it for…"

"Back-up." Warrick interrupted before Green could enter any further into one of his rambles. "If no-one can get near the body, how did you run a blood alcohol test?"

"We…uh…we haven't. But…"

"If you haven't run a blood alcohol test, how do you know she was drunk?"

" Well witnesses all say she looked to be driving under in…"

"And we both witnesses aren't always the most reliable source of information so lets just follow… how would Grissom put it… the thing that never lies – the evidence. I need to call Brass and tell him that I'm gona be a couple more hours late. Do me a favour, call the lab and tell someone to reassign me to this case."

"Like who?"

"Um…ask for Sara."