Hey people, thanks for the reviews. In response to MC New York, I suddenly realised that as yet there hasn't really been much GSR- it didn't occur to me when I was writing because I knew it was coming, but when I look at it like this I realise it takes a little while to get going! But I promise it does. Not this chapter, but inthe next one it heats up rather suddenly...

And thank you to Kristen Elizabeth for your comments. Falling into the habit of 'Britishisms' is something I'm constantly guilty of and I have attempted to minimise them. But sometimes I just do it without thinking. I can definitely appreciate, however, that this is distracting and as such I will make extra effort to keep my writing more accurate. I hope you are enjoying the story anyway.

Em xxx

Sara was sitting at the microscope struggling to get into focus a small piece of carpet thread from the John Doe #1 case. She fiddled with frustration with the piece of equipment before giving up and sitting upright. As she did so, she caught sight of Catherine standing in the doorway.

"Can I help you?" she asked curtly.

"Don't be like this, Sara," Catherine replied, not angry but soothing. The sentiment was lost on Sara, however, who was simply angered more by what she saw as condescending.

"If this isn't about work, then I'd rather you left me alone."

"We had no time to tell you, Sara. I had only known myself for less than half an hour."

"30 whole minutes, Catherine. I was only down the corridor. Or did you think it would be fun? Was it a nice game for you? Let's see how long Sara and the brother she doesn't know about can wander the same building without bumping into each other!"

"It wasn't like that."

"I'm sure it wasn't." Sara pushed herself in her chair across the lab to a different microscope. "If you don't mind, I have work to do."

"I know this is difficult for you, but-"

"You know?" Sara interrupted. "When was the last time you found out your estranged mother had had another child that you did not know about, on the same day that you find out that she's been murdered? How could you possibly imagine how difficult this is?"

Catherine sighed. "He's bad news, Sara."

"Excuse me?" Sara stopped what she was doing and turned to look at Catherine, not liking the sound of where this conversation was going.

"Adam. He evidently takes drugs; he's rude and he's arrogant. He didn't even seem upset by your mother's death."

"Let me guess; that makes him a suspect?"

"I didn't say that."

"But it's true, isn't it?" Sara said disdainfully. "There's no decent evidence so let's accuse the teenage son who looks a bit dubious."

"We're not accusing anybody. As you said yourself, there's no evidence."

Sara was not listening. "I'll have you know, he was perfectly polite to me and I'm going for dinner with him tonight."

Catherine looked shocked. "Tonight?"

"Is that a problem?"

"Isn't it a bit soon?"

"I didn't even know he existed for 19 years. I don't see how any time could be too soon."

Catherine shrugged resignedly. "Just be careful, Sara."

There was no reply, as Sara leaned over the microscope once again, and Catherine left the room wearily.

I.I.I.I.I

Sara took a deep breath as she knocked on the door. She may have been full of confidence when talking about Adam to Catherine but the truth was that she knew nothing about this boy and yet here they were about to try and catch up on nineteen years worth of lost time. When he pulled the door open he was dressed far smarter than previously, in a pinstripe suit. Sara was sure it was impressive amongst the crowd he hung around with, whoever they were, but to her he looked like a little boy playing dress-up in his father's clothes. "Come in," he said with a smile, pulling the door wide open.

Sara hesitated as she crossed the threshold. It suddenly occurred to her that this was not only Adam's home, but her mother's. This was where her mother had been living for who knows how long. It was not the address she had been writing from all those years ago, but Sara wondered how long it was possible she could have been living in Las Vegas without the two bumping into each other. It was a big city, but not that big. Her brain refused to puzzle it out and she simply asked the question. "How long have you been living here?"

"About three years now."

"Three years?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"I'm just surprised – I get around a lot. How can she have been here for three years and yet I never saw her around?" Three years she was so close…

"She didn't get out much."

A million questions ran through Sara's head. There was so much she didn't know; so much she was burning to find out. Time, Sara, she told herself. Don't scare the poor boy off before you've got to know him. "What are we eating?" The one thing she really didn't care about.

"To be honest, I don't really know. Mom usually dealt with all that stuff, you know. Maybe I could call for take out."

"No," Sara insisted. "Let's see what you've got." She realised they were still standing by the front door. Part of her did not want to move from here; it was still an impersonal area and there was nothing to remind her of her mother. But they couldn't hang around forever. "The kitchen?" she queried.

"Follow me."

Sara did so, first into a living area. It was cosy, plush cushions on the sofa, ornaments on a shelf attached to the wall. It did not remind Sara of her own home as a child. Then she spotted a photograph on a table in the corner. Without a word she moved over to pick it up. She drew a sharp breath as she saw the faces smiling back at her. Her mother, her father and a young girl, maybe three years old – Sara.

Adam came up behind her. "That old thing – I never knew why Mom kept it. She told me it was her boyfriend at the time and his niece. A lovely girl, she said. She always told me that she wished she had kept in contact with her. She used to make quite a fuss about it. I never understood – who gets so attached to her boyfriend's niece?" And then something clicked and he turned to look at Sara. "It's you, isn't it?" he murmured.

"That's my Dad."

Adam took the photo from Sara's hands and placed it back on the table. "What happened to him?"

Sara sighed and moved away from him. "You really don't know?"

"Know what?"

"Did Mom ever tell you anything about her past?"

"Not really. I never really thought about it, to be honest. She was my Mom – I never considered she had a life before I came along."

Sara's chest constricted. Her head could not come to terms with this. "The life she had before you, Adam," she began. "Was my life."

I.I.I.I.I

"What do you mean, she's having dinner with him?"

"You did say she could have the night off."

"I meant her to go home and get some sleep, not to try and rebuild her family."

"I tried to talk her out of it, Gil," Catherine insisted. "But it was hopeless. To be frank, what business is it of ours where she spends her evenings?"

"I don't trust that boy, Catherine. And neither do you."

"We have no proof of anything, Gil."

"I'm not saying he necessarily murdered Laura. But whatever, I don't think Sara should grow too attached to him. She's still grieving."

"On the rebound, you might say."

"Exactly."

"But what are we meant to do? Go round there and take her home?" Catherine asked dejectedly.

"Drag her kicking and screaming down the road, you mean?"

"I don't think she'd take to that too kindly. Anyway, it's a nice neighbourhood actually; we wouldn't want to create a stir." She managed a small smile.

"Adam Sidle was living in a nice area?" Grissom sounded disbelieving.

"He lived with his Mum," Catherine replied.

Now Grissom looked intrigued. "How do you know that?"

"The contact address he gave us was the same as the one we got for Laura Sidle." Catherine looked at Grissom questioningly. "Am I missing something?"

"You told me that he said he called Laura to settle dinner arrangements."

"Yes."

"How do you go visit for dinner if you're living in the house already?"

Catherine looked as though she could kick herself. "Of course. I knew there was something dodgy about that excuse."

"He was lying to us."

"Looks that way."

"I told you I didn't trust him."