I needed an escape from reality. So here's a new chapter. Enjoy and please review.

IronAngel 420.

The team was spread out in different areas of the layout room. Their eyes were riveted on Grissom and Special Agent Rick Culpepper who stood with his toes nearly brushing Grissom's. The tension was so thick in the room you could cut it with a knife. Culpepper was busy growling at Grissom. Grissom seemed calm on the outside, but Griffin, the only one who had the ability to see more than the exterior, knew he was barely controlling his anger. Truth be told, she was also having a hard time staying calm.

"Why the hell was I not informed of the discovery of the body, Grissom?!"

Grissom looked straight into Culpepper's eyes, "Because we didn't have a positive I.D., Rick."

"I don't bloody well care! You could have had the goddamn decency to pick up the phone!"

"Like you had decency when you just blew in and took over my case, Culpepper?" asked Grissom, his face calm and serene but his voice had a steel edge to it.

Culpepper looked like he was about to burst an artery. His face turned a bright shade of purple before he growled, "Now, you listen here, you son of a bi –"

"Enough!"

Everyone's head swivelled around to the back of the room where Griffin had jumped off the counter she had been sitting on and her fists were clenched.

"Damn it! What is wrong with you two? You are acting like a bunch of kids," Griffin's eyes were exasperated as she came forward and rested her hands on the layout table.

"You, Miss, are way out of line," said Culpepper through his teeth and even Grissom looked surprised. The rest of the team were shocked into silence and just watched the scene unfold before them.

"No, you are out of line. A man is dead. His daughter was kidnapped and strangled to death with her body dumped on the side of the road like a piece of garbage; and you two stand here fighting over jurisdiction like a bunch of five year olds fighting over a toy! Both of you; get over yourselves! Stop spending half your energy on fighting each other. Rather pool your resources, work together, and catch this bastard. Deliver justice for Michael and Kimmy Barett. That's your job."

Catherine, Warrick, Nick, and Sara stared at Griffin with wide eyes and then looked nervously back at their boss. Griffin was still leaning with her hands on the table staring at Culpepper and Grissom with her piercing, dark eyes. Grissom was the first to move. Turning to Culpepper he said reluctantly, "She's right, Rick. The sooner we catch this guy, the sooner you can get out of my lab."

Grissom offered Culpepper his hand, "Truce?"

Culpepper looked down at Grissom's hand then back at Griffin before he sighed and said, "Truce," shaking Grissom's hand. Everyone relaxed.

"Okay," said Grissom turning to his team. Griffin had once again retreated to the back of the room and was leaning up against the back of the counter. "Now that we are all working together," Grissom looked at Culpepper before continuing, "What do we have?"

Catherine was the first to speak, "DNA still hasn't come back, so we have not, as yet, positively I. the body. Mrs. Barett is on her way in. As soon as she gets here I'll take her down to the morgue."

"The tread Griffin found," said Nick, "was a confirmed match to the one I found at the primary crime scene."

"Good," said Grissom, "but can this connect the two scenes?"

"I suppose so," said Nick shrugging, "but the Mercedes is a pretty common car, and it's not the only car with those tyres. We are certain that the getaway car is a Mercedes, the eye witness confirms that."

"We tapped Mrs. Barett's phone," said Culpepper, "but there was no ransom call."

"That's odd," said Catherine frowning.

"Not really," said Culpepper turning to her, "it simply means that the perp wasn't looking for money."

"Okay, so we're back to the four biggies," said Warrick crossing his long arms.

"Drugs, sex, love, or money," Griffin said.

"So we can rule out money," said Culpepper.

"And drugs," said Sara.

"Sex too," said Nick, "Far as Warrick and I could dig, we dug; and we found nothing to suggest that Mr. Barett was having an affair."

Griffin frowned and came to stand next to Nick, "Men aren't the only ones who have affairs, Nick."

Culpepper nodded his head in agreement.

Turning to Grissom, Griffin said, "Mrs. Barett was the first on the scene, so shouldn't that make her...our first suspect?"

Captain Brass chose that moment to enter the layout room. He took one look at the scene before him and said in a sarcastic tone, "What? No one invites me to the party?"

"Actually, Captain," said Griffin turning to Brass, "Your timing couldn't be better."

"Really?" said Brass sceptically.

"Yeah," answered Griffin, "Did you, perchance, follow up on Mrs. Barett's alibi?"

"Is the Pope Catholic?"

The side of Griffin's mouth tugged upward slightly and she asked, "Anything pertinent?"

Brass turned to Grissom, "Receptionist confirmed that when she left at about eight p.m., ADA Barett was still hard at work."

Sara frowned and said, "Well, that leaves four hours unaccounted for."

Griffin asked, "Did you get the video surveillance from the DA's office?"

Brass shook his head and said, "I haven't gotten around to it yet." He shrugged and said, slightly defensive, "It's been a kinda busy two days."

"S'okay, Captain. Would it be possible for you to acquire these tapes and get them to me as soon as possible?" asked Griffin politely.

Brass looked at Grissom from the corner of his eye and Grissom gave an almost imperceptible nod of his head; Brass sighed and rubbed the back of his neck as he said, "Yeah, sure, I'll get right on it."

"Thank you," said Griffin bowing her head.

"Alright, it seems we have our work cut out for us; but first, let's completely work the evidence. I want Sara and Griffin on the clothes and duct tape. Nick, you take the fibres we found on the body. Warrick, see if you can't identify the markings on the neck. Catherine you handle the mother, and I'll be in the morgue."

Everyone started to disperse to the respective tasks when Grissom said, "Griffin?"

Griffin paused by the door and looked back.

"Do you mind staying a moment?" asked Grissom.

Griffin waited until everyone left the room until she came back into the room and stood in front of Grissom.

"What's up?" she asked.

Grissom crossed his arms and looked hard at her, "Do you mind giving me an explanation for what happened earlier?"

Griffin didn't look ashamed or regretful, she simply said, "I apologize, if I was out of line."

"Yes, you were; but you were right," said Grissom.

Griffin arched an eyebrow.

"I wouldn't suggest doing it again, but thank you. I lost perspective and you helped me to find it again," Grissom smiled.

"In that case, you're welcome," said Griffin.

"I'm sure Sara is waiting for you."

Griffin nodded and left the room. Grissom frowned; she was most definitely a peculiar woman.

CSICSICSICSI

Warrick Brown still hadn't I. the bruising on the second D.B.'s neck yet. He picked up the printed photo again and narrowed his eyes while he looked at it. Warrick still couldn't quite make out the markings. He slipped the photo into the scanner and hit the scan button. Turning back to the computer he watched as the picture showed up onto the screen. Clicking on a photo shop icon Warrick adjusted the colouring of the picture, enhancing the bruising to make them more prominent. Peering more closely, Warrick grinned as he saw the pattern more clearly.

Dude, he thought to himself, you're good.

Opening up his Google search engine, Warrick typed into the search box 'Bicycle chains' and immediately got a couple of hits. Warrick double clicked on one of the websites and opened up the file with the pictures. Selecting a picture of a chain with a diamond shaped pattern, Warrick halved the screen so that the picture of the bruises and the picture of the chain were placed side by side. Warrick then dragged the picture of the chain over to the picture with the bruise...and got a perfect match.

CSICSICSICSI

Grissom entered the morgue dressed in a light blue lab coat over his street clothes and latex gloves on his hands. Doctor Robbins was bent over the body of the young girl from their latest crime scene.
"Hey, Doc," said Grissom walking up to the metal table with his hands in the pockets of his lab coat, "Got anything for me?"

Robbins was busy suturing the Y incision he had cut into the girl's chest. He looked up saying, "Yeah. Sorry, it's been a busy night. There was a fatal pile up in Henderson; I just finished the autopsy now."

"It's okay, I'm here now," said Grissom with a shrug.

"COD is strangulation. I found petechial haemorrhaging in the conjunctivae," said Robbins.

The conjunctiva is the mucous membrane that lined the inner surface of the eyelids. A good sneeze could sometimes cause some petechia though.

"As you can see there is extensive bruising around the neck and the hyoid bone is broken, which suggests manual strangulation," said the Doctor as he finished his sutures.

"Lividity?" asked Grissom.

"Lividity is consistent with her dying on her back and she stayed on her back for some time before she was placed on her side."

Grissom nodded his head and sighed, going rigid before he asked, "Sexual assault?"

"No vaginal tearing, her hymen was still intact and the SAE kit came back negative," said the ME.

Grissom let out a sigh of relief and nodded once more.

"I sent the nail scrapings to DNA, if you want to check up on that," offered Robbins.

Grissom nodded and looked one last time at the young girl lying on the slab. Her skin was now even paler than her fair blonde hair. He gave a sad sigh before looking up at Robbins and saying, "Thanks, Doc." Grissom turned and pushed the door open with his shoulder, exiting the morgue.

CSICSICSICSI

Sara found herself in the layout room going over a victim's clothes. Griffin stood next to her, her brow was furrowed as she analysed the duct tape that had been used to tie the victim up. Sara was going over the rest of the clothes, the shirt and the black skirt. The girl had been barefoot, which was strange; if someone had taken the time to redress her; why not bother to put her shoes back on?

"Well," said Griffin still going over a strip of tape, "When we locate our suspect roll of duct tape, we can run a laser ablation test to determine if this tape came from the same roll."

Sara had a moment of irritation, she felt like saying to her that she knew how to do her job, when it occurred to her that Griffin was just trying to make small talk. Sara had decided to...re-evaluate the younger woman, which was quite a step for Sara, who had some serious trust issues when it came to strangers.

"Yeah," said Sara, "You find any prints?"

Griffin straightened and said turning to Sara, "No, I'll super glue it, but there's something I want to try before I do."

Sara also straightened and raised an eyebrow before she asked, "Which is?"

Placing the magnifying glass that was in her hand down on the table and picked up a roll of duct tape with a latexed hand, Griffin asked, "Can you tie me up?"

Sara frowned.

Griffin smirked, "It'll be fun."

Sara couldn't contain her smile as she rolled her eyes and took the tape from the younger girl's hand. Griffin placed her hands together and Sara began to wrap the tape around Griffin's wrist. When she was finished, Sara tore the piece of tape with her teeth and took a step back. Griffin was smiling at Sara. Sara frowned and said, "What?"

"See what you did there?" asked Griffin.

Sara just raised her eyebrow and thought for a second. Suddenly a light bulb went off in her head and she said, "I tore the tape with my teeth."

"Exactly," said Griffin with a smile, "If the killer did the same thing, then his DNA would be on the ends of this tape."

Sara shook her head in amazement and chuckled, "I would never have thought of that."

Griffin was still looking down at the tape as she smiled. Griffin straightened and slipped the tape back into the evidence bags.

"Listen," Griffin said, "I'm gonna get this to DNA then I'm going to see if I can't get some prints of these pieces of tape."

Sara nodded and said, "Okay, well, I'll be busy here for a while, so keep me posted, okay?"

Griffin nodded and walking backwards said, "You got it."

CSICSICSICSI

Griffin walked down the hall and took a right turn entering the DNA lab. Among the sea of test tube, and metal tables, and the fancy machines was a young man in his early twenties who sat in front of a computer. He had an impish smile and crazy, spiky hair. Griffin liked him already. When she entered into the lab, the lab tech turned around and said, "Oh, hey. I don't think I've seen you around here. I'm Greg Sanders."

Griffin smiled and said, "Griffin Bauer. I'm new here."

"Well, it's nice to meet you. If there's anything you need, I'm your guy," grinned Greg.

"Actually, there is something," Griffin handed the evidence bag with the duct tape in it to him, "Could you run this and see if there is any DNA on the edges."

"That's a bit of a stretch isn't it?" asked Greg frowning.

"Yeah, I know. Listen, standard procedure is to run the RFLP procedure, right?" asked Griffin.

When RFLP (a restriction fragment length polymorphisms) is used, DNA is pulled out of a cluster of cells like a few drops of blood. The long strands of DNA are then cut into pieces at specific intervals, giving CSI's many small DNA strands. Next, the DNA strands are run through an electrophoresis gel. The gel is similar to a rectangular piece of gelatine with small holes that line the one edge of the gel. All the DNA strands are then placed in the holes and an electric current is run through the gel. The sections of DNA will move through the gel along with the current. The smaller sections move quicker through the gel than the longer pieces. This separates the DNA into two or more different 'bands' that relate to different lengths of DNA pieces. Analysts then compare the pattern of the 'bands' in another sample. If the sample came from the same person, the DNA produces the same pattern of bands.

"Yes," replied Greg, "That process is the most accurate."

"Yeah," said Griffin, "But it can take anywhere from three weeks to three months, right?"

"Correct," confirmed Greg.

"Here's the thing. This case is high profile and we need these results pretty much sooner than three weeks."

"What do you suggest?"

"Can you use the PCR procedure?" suggested Griffin.

PCR (polymerase chain reaction) is a process that is very similar to RFLP, except that it's used when there is a very small sample, like a drop or two of blood. PCR breaks the DNA into pieces and then makes millions of copies of just part of the DNA strand. Certain markers in the smaller strands of DNA are then compared to see if the two samples match. Even though PCR isn't quite as accurate and precise as RFLP, it is much faster, and you usually get the results within less than a week. This method is also used on older and smaller samples like hair, fingernails and even saliva.

"I like a girl who can talk tech," flirted Greg, "So... I will do this especially for you, pretty lady. If I find something I'll let you know, but you're going to owe me a favour."

"Thanks," said Griffin, "but something tells me you were going to run a PCR in anyways."

Greg laughed and Griffin grinned as she exited the lab.

CSICSICSICSI

Nick woke with a start as his phone rang on the table which he had fallen asleep on. Wiping his hand over his face he snatched up the ringing phone and snapped it open saying, "Talk to me."

"Nick, its Greg."

"Yeah, what's up?" asked Nick still trying to wake up.

"Have you been sleeping on the job again?"

"What is up, Greg?" asked Nick irritably.

"I got the results on your blue fibres."

"Great," said Nick pushing away from his desk, "I'll be right there."

Nick snapped his phone shut and stretched before opening the door of his office and stepping out into the fluorescent lighted hall. Nick walked down the hall towards Greg's lab, hoping that they would be able to catch a break in the case soon. Not only so that he could go home and get some sleep, and maybe even a descent meal, but so that he could also maybe ask Griffin out. He smiled as he thought of the mysterious young lady with dark eyes. Though he had seriously put his foot in his mouth at the diner, he fully intended to redeem himself. Nick entered the lab to find Greg looking at something on the computer.

"Yo!" said Nick banging his fist on the metal table causing the lab tech to jump.

"Naked Niki Minaj!" yelled Greg and Nick burst out laughing.

Greg curled his lip back in disgust and said through his teeth, "Grow up, Stokes."

"No, way, Man," said Nick breathless from laughing, "Being a kid is way too much fun."

Greg rolled his eyes and said, "In case you're interested, the fibre from your Vic is underneath the microscope."

Nick, still chuckling, bent over the comparison microscope. "Trilobal means it's from a car. Have you isolated what type of car this type of fibre comes from?"

Before Nick had even finished Greg had handed him a piece of paper, "Fibre is from a BMW X5 with a blue interior."

"Well, that seems to be the car of choice in this case," mused Nick.

"Looks that way," Greg said, "Hey, I saw the New Girl. And wow, she's hot! Sassy too, I like it."

"Off limits, Greg," said Nick with a warning smile as he backed out of the lab.

"What? You calling dibs now?" Greg asked with a smirk.

Nick gave a full fledged grin and said, "Yeah, I guess I am."

"Well, a little healthy competition would do you good, Stokes."

Nick rolled his eyes, picked up the report and left the lab saying, "Trust me, Greggo. There's no competition."

CSICSICSICSI

Griffin walked a little farther down the hall and entered the fingerprinting lab. She grabbed a white lab coat that hung on a hook near the door and slipped it on. She laid the cellophane bags down on the metal table next to a glass box. Griffin grabbed a pair of latex gloves from the cardboard box that was lying on the table and tugged them on over her hands. She opened the evidence bag and gently pulled out the duct tape. She laid it down on the table and the turned to the glass box. She flipped the lid up and over the box before she picked up the duct tape. Inside the glass box was a line and two metallic clothes pegs along with a small burner; Griffin picked up the tape then attached them to the clips.

She removed the small, hallow, soft tin cup from the box and picked up the tube of super glue. Griffin squirted a bit of the glue into the tin cup and replaced it on the burner and closed the glass flap.

Griffin turned on the burner and watched as a smoky gas filled the glass box. She narrowed her eyes and gave a small smile as she saw a near perfect print appear on the silver tape. Griffin switched off the burner and carefully removed the tape from the clips. She lay the tape down once again on the table in front of her and then reached for the camera. The camera was set up on a small tripod facing downwards with two flashes on either side of the lens. Griffin placed a marker next to the tape then placed camera over the tape, picked up the remote, and shot three series of pictures of the print. She then removed the memory card from the camera and inserted it into the computer. Griffin watched as the print appeared on the screen.

"Hey."

Griffin turned and saw another tech standing in the doorway. She gave him a once over with her eyes. He was tall with very dark eyes, and blonde hair streaked with darker shades of blonde. Kinda a Californian, Surfer boy look.

"Hey," she said turning back to the computer.

"I'm Ian," he said.

"Griffin," said Griffin absent minded.

"You need me to run that print?" Ian asked.

Griffin looked up at him and arched one of her dark eyebrows.

Ian gave an attractive smile and said, pointing to himself, "Fingerprint tech."

"Oh," said Griffin, "Um, sure." She got up out of the chair and offered it to Ian. "Sorry," she said, "I'm used to doing my own lab work."

Ian smiled again and said sitting and looking up at her, "Well, I wouldn't complain if someone as beautiful as you commandeered my lab."

Griffin smiled and shook her head a little (wondering if everyone with a Y chromosome in this lab would be hitting on her) before she replied, "Run it through AFIS, please. If you get a hit give me a call?"

"You can count on it," chuckled Ian with a cocky smile. Griffin gave one last smile, shook her head and left the fingerprint lab.