A/N: I watched an old CSI episode and I didn't realize how much I missed the show! How much longer do I have to wait!? Anyways, I only mention this because I realized I might be misrepresenting the character's and writing them how I want them to be. So they might be OOC which wasn't my intention.

By the way, I'm not sure if you guys noticed, but I lowered the rating to T. After reading some other stories I realized it was too high. I'm not planning on going too graphic (wouldn't know how to write it if I wanted to).

Thank you for the lurkers! Thank you for visiting, I hope you have a pleasant trip :)

Later that day Nick arrived at Greg's apartment with coffee in hand. He knocked a couple times but didn't get an answer. As CSI's, they knew the value of privacy-their job required them to strip their victims bare in order to uncover the truth. As much as Nick wanted to give Greg his privacy, he was also worried about him. Plus they had to be at work in 10 minutes so he gently opened the door.

"Hey Greg, you awake?" Nick slowly crept in, reflexively scanning the scene for evidence. He noticed a glass broken on his kitchen floor, along with one of his dining room chairs knocked over. A photo that was hanging on the wall in the dining room was now knocked to the floor with the frame shattered. Nick became worried. What happened here?

Nick didn't see Greg in the main rooms so he went to his bedroom.

"Greg? Come on man get up." Nick said loudly as he slowly opened the door all the way- revealing an empty bedroom. Greg wasn't anywhere to be found. Nick was no longer worried, he was panicking. After the attack last night, this couldn't be a coincidence. Then he realized, they took his vest. They knew his last name and what his job was. It would be easy to tail him. He quickly dialed his cell and paced the living room, looking for a note or some kind of clue as to where he went. But on the 3rd ring he heard a throat clearing on the other end.

Greg's groggy voice echoed into his ear, "Hey Nick, what's going on?" Nick was immediately relieved. He felt silly for jumping to conclusions.

"Nothing Greg, I just came to pick you up and you weren't here. Hey are you aware that your house is a mess? It looks like it was broken into." Nick began looking around for anything that was missing. Greg became alert instantly.

"Nick, don't worry about it. I uh made the mess myself. Just come to work and I'll explain later." Nick picked up the broken frame and noticed that it was empty.

"Yeah okay I'll be there in a few. Did you hang an empty picture by chance?"

"What? No. Why do you ask?"

"Well there's a broken frame on the ground but it doesn't have a picture in it. It look's like it was hanging on the wall. What happened Greg?"

"Nothing happened Nick. I'll explain everything when you get here."

"Alright, did you want me to clean it up a bit? The milk on the floor will be a bitch to clean up later."

"Don't worry about it Nick. Look, I'm in the middle of processing I'll see you later." Then before Nick could say good-bye Greg hung up. The abruptness caught him off guard, but there was too much going on here for him to dwell on it.

Nick wanted to leave, he really did, but something didn't seem right. Greg wouldn't leave his place a mess if he did it himself. It's not like he was late for work or anything. Plus CSI's are very protective of their homes, he wouldn't leave the door unlocked. He looked out on the balcony and noticed a potted cactus was lying on it's side. There was also a rather large hand print on the outside of the glass that couldn't belong to Greg's long skinny fingers.

Greg's apartment was on the 2nd floor and the balcony's were only about 3 feet away from each other. Nick also saw a two story building roof top at the end of Greg's building. If someone was very careful about being seen, it would be easy to jump from the building's roof top to the balcony's and landed in Greg's. But why go to all the trouble to rob someone when there were plenty of other targets before hand? Greg may have said he did it himself, but that doesn't mean he couldn't be in trouble.

Unsatisfied, Nick went to his bedroom and did a quick scan there too. His bed was a mess, but for the most part it was remarkably clean. Not even a little dusty. With the amount of hours they pull, Nick was amazed that Greg was able to keep up his apartment. Now that he thought about it, the entire place was clean with the exception of the few scattered item's in the main rooms. Then he noticed the closet door was open a bit. Curiosity was overwhelming. He put his hand on the knob, took a second to accept the fact that he was violating Greg's privacy, then opened the door- it was just an ordinary closet.

Nick turned to leave, feeling ridiculous when he noticed something reflecting light behind his clothes. He reached behind some old punk t-shirts, not really sure what he was expecting, when he found a small video camera pointed right at the crack of the door. Nick looked it over and found it was still taping. Why would he have a video recording the closet door? To test a theory, Nick placed the camera back on the stand and estimated the projection angle. If he put the door back the way it was, it gave the perfect view of Greg's bed. An even better question: why is it pointed at his bed, hidden in the closet? Unsatisfied with all the questions swarming his mind, Nick put everything back the way it was and left the apartment. Something was going on with Greg and he was going to find out.

Back at the lab Greg's was in the middle of testing the DNA from the swab he took from his nails. Right now he was just waiting for his results. His lungs were still on fire and it hurt for him to sit down, but nobody seemed to notice. After receiving the phone call from Nick, and having to cut it short when Finn walked in, he didn't know how he was going to explain the mess to him. He couldn't tell him the truth, he didn't want Nick to get involved somehow, and knowing how overprotective he was, he wouldn't just let him handle it. Nick was also a damn good CSI, so his excuse had to be good and plausible-he figured he had about 10 minutes before he had to lie through his teeth.

The photo disappearing was new. He didn't remember a frame falling, though he probably knocked it over in the struggle. The frame had to be in the dining room and he had 4 different frames on the wall. Two of them were over the chair the man was sitting on, and two were over his chair. He couldn't remember which frame had which picture though. He knew there was one of him and his old pet golden retriever Mr. Ed when he was 22, a picture of him and Nick celebrating a victory in court over some beers, a picture of his parents enjoying a summer's day, and the picture he had taken right after his friends remodeled his home. One of the creep's must have taken one of those, but he didn't see the point in taking a picture if they had some of their own.

The machine dinged and Greg abruptly ended his thoughts and dived into his results. The black mans name was Jason Markus. He was 41, had a long, long ,long criminal history that went back as far as 13 years old. It ranged from burglary to arson, to finally hitting a 10 year sentence over minor drug possession with intent to sell. What worried him the most was his history of violence to go with the crimes. While robbing a house, he had beat an old man until he was barely breathing, and because they didn't have any evidence to suggest he laid a hand on him, they only got him for burglary. He had also sent 5 women to the hospital over domestic abuse, but none of them pressed charges. Another time a house was burned down with 3 people inside who managed to escape. And the list went on and on. Not once did he ever see the man in charge with him though. If they had been friends for a long time, he had been smart to keep himself out of Jays criminal record. Everything on his record stopped though when he visited his parole officer for the last time 6 months ago. He's been staying under the radar ever since.

Right then, Sara popped her head, making Greg jump when she said,"Hey Greg, D.B wants to talk to you. He say's you weren't answering your phone." Greg looked down and found D.B had tried calling 4 times, and he didn't hear it ring once. He thanked Sara for passing along the message and headed to his office, making sure he cleared the computer and threw away the sample. Sara was watching from the next lab and noticed Greg throwing away evidence. Confused, she went to see what he had tossed out. She picked up the bag and ran the DNA again, the results popping up almost immediately. Sara scanned through the file and wondered why Greg would have this sample and just toss it out. Knowing he wouldn't jeopardize a case, it had to have been personal.

"Hey Sara, what are you doing?" Hodges walked into the lab with his hands behind his back like a 4 year old who had caught his sister stealing candy. Sara only briefly glanced at him, debating whether or not to include him on her suspicions of Greg.

"Do you know what time Greg got here?" Hodge's pursed his lips in disappointment.

"I don't know, I don't keep tabs on his whereabouts." Sara looked to him incredulously.

"Hodge's you keep tabs on everybody." Hodge's grinned embarrassed. Was it that obvious?

"He came in around 6:13. May I ask why you're asking?" Sara smiled to him.

"No." Hodges grinned back to her.

"Well can I at least know why you're running Jason Markus through Codis?" Hodges got a brief glance at the screen before Sara quickly clicked out of the file. "Arson, assault, burglary, drug possession. Sounds like a well rounded guy."

"He's a suspect in a ongoing investigation." Not a complete lie. "Don't you have work to do? Did you finish processing the green stuff in out victim's mouth yet?"

"Ah, well that's actually why I came here in the first place. The burn inside her mouth was caused by Witch's Brew." Sara had no idea what that was, but the grin on Hodge's face suggested he did.

"Care to explain what that is?"

"Gladly. Back in 1692, during the witch trials-" Sara sort of zoned out from there. Then she saw Greg coming back. Sara stood up and grabbed Hodge's arm escorting him out.

"-the put this concoction in the men's drink-"

"Wow that's fascinating. Why don't you tell me more in your lab." Hodges grin got even bigger. Someone actually wanted to listen to one of my stories!

Sara meanwhile put the sample in her jacket pocket, and rubbed the plastic wrapper as if it would speak to her. What's going on with him?

Back in D.B Russell's office, Russell was waiting patiently for Greg, doing menial paper work when he got a knock on the door. Greg leaned his head into his office.

"You wanted to see me?" he asked. Russell gestured to the seat across his desk and Greg nervously closed the door and sat down. Russell came around his desk and calmly leaned against the side.

"Nick called me." Greg became anxious; he wasn't ready. He hadn't thought of an excuse. "What happened this morning?" Quickly, Greg said the first thing that came to mind.

"I fell." Stupid. "I mean, I was standing on my chair last night and lost my balance." Not much better but that will have to do. Russell felt he wasn't telling the truth.

"Did you have someone over last night?" Greg shifted uneasily in his chair with an ever so subtly grimace.

"No. Why?" Russell was connecting the dots. Something happened last night, why is he trying to hide it?

"Nick said there was a hand print on the balcony window that didn't look like it belonged to you." Greg did his best to seem nonchalant.

"It was probably Nick's. He come's over a lot when he's not working. Sometimes when I'm not even there, which is a little weird but hey, it's what you do for friends. Is that all?" Russell stared at him in disbelief.

"He also found a video camera in your closet that was running, pointed directly at your bed." In a flash, Greg stilled and paled, but quickly brushed it off. How do I explain this?

"First of all that was private. And what I do in the bedroom is my business. Nothing happened this morning so tell Nick to stop searching my place for clues. Now is there anything work related that I need to be here for, cause I have some test's to run." Greg got out of his seat, not wanting to spend another second in interrogation. Russell didn't want him to leave until he got the truth but he didn't want to force him, and he couldn't with how upset he was. He nodded to the door, gesturing for him to leave. After he stormed out Russell went back to his desk, contemplating the evidence and what it could mean for his friend. He made a decision right then. He picked up his phone and dialed.

"Jim Brass."

"Hey Jim, I need you to do me a favor."

A/N: I hope you enjoyed your stay, please come back again :)