Author's Note: I still can't get over the numbers of reviews I'm getting. Thanks a million George Eadses (I only wish there were a million of George…don't we all?) to everybody who reviewed last chapter, as well as any other. Since I love you all so much, here is one ingredient of the pancake mix: Lettuce (weird, eh?).

This is my first attempt at a real case, so just bear with me for a while. Right now, I'm just setting it up. If it sucks, let me know in a review and I'll just have the culprit confess in the next chapter or something. That's just like me, always taking the easy way out. Haha.

And now for my anonymous reviewers:

To Allie: Thanks for the review. I'm glad to know what you think compared to other Snickers stories. Trust me, it won't get too angsty. At least no more angsty than Chapters Five and Six were. I try to be funny, but usually I just end up looking pathetic. I'm trying to actually give it a bit of a plot. That plot comes more into play in this chapter…

To MollyMKS: So glad you are enjoying! I am just as excited about this story as any of you, and I'm updating as often as I can. When I'm not in school or watching CSI, I'm replying to reviews, typing, posting, or reading. I don't even do homework anymore!

To Your Spell-Binding Lover: Oh yeah, drive-through chapels. Viva Las Vegas.

Spoilers: 'Grave Danger', slightly. But seriously, if you haven't seen 'Grave Danger', what rock have you been living under? Also a bit of…shall we say, inspiration, from 'Shooting Stars'.

Disclaimer: Apparently, my Portuguese was all messed up last time. Stupid Internet translators grumbles incoherently. I knew they weren't completely accurate, but I never knew they were that not completely accurate. Special thanks to my Brazilian buddy Mma63 for the real translation: Eu no criei isto, eu no possuo isto. Eu desejo George desesperadamente.

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Nick and Sara were now driving out to Jackpot. They had a quadruple murder to handle, just the two of them. It was nice, though. Now they got to spend the few hours it would take to get there alone. As if they hadn't had enough time together. At least they could talk more about the wedding.

"You'd better start running me through your family so I at least know something about them when I meet them," she persuaded.

"Okay," he said, pulling his wallet out from the centre console, one hand still on the steering wheel.

She laughed when she saw it. "That's got to be the thickest wallet I've ever seen!"

"Yeah, well you try having over a hundred pictures of your family in a single wallet."

That shut her up quick. Smirking, knowing he'd gotten his way, he passed it to her and she opened it up. She gasped. There literally were a hundred pictures, and she nearly died when she saw all the sets of twins.

"Told ya," he grinned.

"You sure did!" she agreed, her eyes wide. "Do you mind walking me through any of this?"

"The names are all on the backs," he explained. "But when we go home, I'll tell you how I'm related to everybody."

"Okay." She proceeded to flip through the photos. It looked like just about an entire baby name book had been used.

"All of the redheads are from my mom's side," he supplied.

"But is your mom's entire side redheaded?" she asked.

Processing this for a second, he replied, "Yes, I think. My point is that there are no redheads on Cisco's side." He wasn't entirely sure.

"Cisco?" she asked, a bit confused.

Like he'd just remembered something, he said, "Yeah, of course. My dad."

"How did you get 'Cisco'?"

He smiled another heart-stopping grin. "I'm not telling," he said secretively.

A look of realization crossed her face. "So that's why he called you Poncho!"

Confused, he asked, "When did he call me Poncho?"

"Not your dad. Grissom called you Poncho when we rescued you, remember?"

"Oh, yeah! Hey, how did he know that?"

"When they were watching you on the webcam, your dad said something like, 'Oh, Poncho, what you got yourself into?' and I guess Grissom heard."

He shook his head and exhaled sharply. "Typical."

"What's typical?"

"That he'd blame that on me. Like I planned to be buried alive."

"I…take it you never got along well with him?" she asked gently.

"Well, we did when I was kid. But then when I hit high school, he kept pressuring me to take courses that could get me into law. He didn't really understand that I wasn't interested. He thought I was a geek for liking science as much as I did, and he made no effort to hide it." Changing his tone, he asked, "Can we talk about something else? Please?"

"Sure, of course."

An awkward silence ensued. "You realize that, since we're out here, we'll probably have to stay a few nights until the case is solved. You won't be able to get a pregnancy test until we get back, unless you want to buy one up there," Nick finally said, trying to make conversation.

"And show my face again? Right. Like you said, we'll be up there a few days," she scoffed.

"Just a suggestion," he said, holding his hands up in surrender.

"Sorry." She took a deep breath. "Nick, what if I am pregnant?"

"We're getting married anyway," he said, pointing out the obvious.

"I know, but…I don't know. Never mind." She turned her head to the side and stared out the window.

Snaking his hand up to hers and grabbing it lovingly, he whispered, voice cracking, "You can tell me, you know."

"It's just, I never thought we'd have kids so soon," she revealed.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa? Kids? As in plural? That reminds me…there's something I need to tell you. Ummm…I'm not really sure how to say this, but, well, twins run in my family. I know that fraternal twins are entirely on the female, but I don't exactly know about if male genes can cause identical twins."

The colour drained from Sara's face as she realized the possibility of her carrying Nick's babies.

"Well, we still have another hour and a half to Jackpot. I might as well tell you about my family. I think I might be able to get through my immediate family and their families by then."

The look on Sara's face suggested she was about to faint.

As Nick proceeded to tell her everything he'd thought of the night that he'd proposed, he could see her eyes grow wider with every new person, her jaw drop a little more with each new set of twins, and her head tilt forward with the news about Kiefer.

"Yikes."

"Yeah. Just wait till you meet them all. My sister Flora's two triplet boys-"

"-Paul and Mitchell?" she interjected.

"Yeah. Good memory. Anyway, they're six, right? Let me tell you, they're a force to be reckoned with. Redhead terrors."

"You must take after your dad," she said.

"What?" he asked, a bit confused.

"You don't have red hair," she answered, pointing to his head.

Sarcastically, he said, "Your powers of observation never cease to astound me."

"How about your other siblings?" she asked.

"Nope, I'm the only one."

"Wow."

They spent a lot of the rest of the drive making small talk, when Sara remembered her original question again. "So…Nick?"

"Mmhmm?" he said, doing a shoulder check as they turned onto the off-ramp into Jackpot.

"What if I'm pregnant?"

"Then I guess my mother gets grandchild number thirty-six."

"Your father too," she reminded.

"Yep," he sighed. "Cisco too."

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Pulling up to the crime scene, a small, slightly run-down farmhouse that reminded Nick a little bit of home, the CSIs knew it wasn't going to be an easy scene. There was blood everywhere and dirt from the front that had been tracked in. It was windy, so any footprints left outside in the dust would be long gone by now.

"Alright," Sara said. "I'll take up, you take down?"

"Sure," Nick said, not even realizing what he was agreeing to. He went down the stairs not even thinking about it, but as soon as he got into the dark basement and smelled decomp, he instinctively reached over to the window and opened it. It was when he looked outside that he realized where he was. There was dirt piled up to right underneath the sill, and all of a sudden, Nick was inside that box again.

Hi, CSI guy. You wondering why you're here? Because you followed the evidence. Because that's what CSIs do. So breathe quick, breathe slow, put your gun in your mouth and pull the trigger. Any way you like, you're going to die here. Okay.

Sara called him a few minutes later, and when there was no reply, she went downstairs to find him.

She found him, all right. Curled up in the fetal position mumbling in Spanish.

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Author's Note: Well, I'm getting rather bored with this story, so I think I'll just end it there…Who are we kidding? We all know that I can't keep my hands off the keyboard any more than I could keep them off George, given the option. Keep reading and reviewing and I'll keep writing…