A/N: I'm back! I missed you all so much. I had a pretty crap time in Australia. The next time my parents offer me a free month-long trip no strings attached, I am going to laugh in their faces. Funny story though; I was in this Greek restaurant in Melbourne and the waitress was crazy flirting with me so, just for fun, I flirted back. About halfway through dinner my mother realizes why this girl keeps coming back to fill my water glass and she goes all quiet. My oblivious father didn't even notice.

That was the only relief I got from extreme frustration. I had to share hotel rooms with them! Agony! I am never leaving America again! Okay, that's an outrageous lie, but next time, I am definitely bringing my computer. So, here's a scattered chapter for you, a little short I know, but I thought we'd ease back into things. Hope you likey.

IOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOI

Maggie is allergic to strawberries. Meaning that whenever there are any in the house, they go on the top shelf of the refrigerator. You have to wash your hands and the counter and all bowls containing strawberries until they are spotless, and all towels used then have to be washed in very hot water. But not in the washing machine because residue might get on her clothes.

We don't have strawberries very often.

We pitched the idea of living together to the girls right away and they had been all for it. Easy as pie. It had gone over like candy on Halloween. As far as they were concerned, living together meant all day partying. Yeah, well, they would learn.

The day after I asked Sara to move in, we started making the preparations. Everything had to be done quickly if we wanted to be mostly done before the girls started school. What had been my guest room needed to become Ayla and Maggie's room, so I needed moving men to come and take out the bed and other furniture in there to make way for their things. Then we needed a storage unit big enough for my things and most of Sara's stuff. We did realize that someday we would need to get a bigger house, but I had just finished paying off the mortgage on this one, and one thing at a time.

Sara didn't seem to mind parting with a lot of her furniture, none of it appeared to have any sort of intrinsic value for her. And she actually got to take a few things out of storage that she hadn't been able to keep in her apartment. Mostly sports equipment, a few boxes of books, a beautiful watercolor painting of the San Francisco Bay that fit perfectly over our bed. I loved waking up to that everyday. And Ayla was over the moon when Sara brought home a telescope she had been keeping in Greg's basement.

We were almost entirely moved in, except for a few boxes here and there, by the end of two weeks. Moving in was one thing. It was laborious, but not overly emotionally taxing. Explaining to Gil why Sara needed to change her home address? Extremely emotionally taxing. How do you tell a man, 'You know how last week we ripped your heart out? Well, just incase the message didn't stick the first time, we've decided to go ahead and stomp on your heart as well. Doesn't that sound like fun?' Sara's solution was to simply not tell him and, as much as I was with her in spirit, mine was to just tell him as quickly as possible. I won.

"Grissom? Could Cath and I talk to you for a second?"

"Is it urgent?" He sat, scouring over documents, hunched at his desk, "I've got this whole stack of paperwork." He gestured at the pile beside him.

I sighed. Before the coming out disaster of ten days previous, he would have never used paperwork as an excuse, "It can wait if it has to, Gil, but this will really only take a second." I tapped my foot impatiently.

Gil sighed, and removed his glasses. "Okay. You have my undivided attention."

Sara and I took seats in front of his desk. Sara coughed. "Grissom, I…I need to change my place of address."

The man's face took on a stormy expression. "Oh?"

I bit my tongue to keep from getting defensive. I knew he was hurting, but this was a bit immature and it was flustering Sara.

"Uh…yeah."

"Are you moving?" He wasn't looking at either of us, but at some indeterminate point in the vicinity of his paper tray.

Sara coughed and my anger grew. How dare he make her feel guilty about something she was perfectly within her rights to do! I gritted my teeth and reigned in my emotions. It might be my way to explode and make a scene, but it certainly would not help Sara or our case.

"Yeah, I'm…" I saw her swallow and felt the urge to reach out and hold her hand. "I'm going to be moving in with Catherine. The girls and I are moving in with Cath and Lindsey."

"I see."

"And?" Had I meant for that to come out so irritated?

"And…thank you for telling me. I'll update Sara's file. Obviously, there's no need to ask for the new address, seeing as I've been there on several occasions." His voice was steely. He put his glasses back on, picked up his pen, and went back to work.

"Grissom," Sara pleaded, "Don't do this."

"Don't do what, Sara? My job? I have to get this paperwork done if any of you want health insurance next year."

"Griss, please. Try to understand."

His jaw clenched. "I've been trying to understand, Sara. Forgive me if I'm not Mr. Understanding, but I feel entitled to more than one week of adjustment period before you tell me you've decided to become Susie Homemaker. Personally, I think I've been rather accommodating."

"We weren't planning on moving in together when we told you," Sara protested. "It just sort of happened. It's more practical. We'll sleep more, we'll be able to work better hours, we'll be able to spend more time with the girls. It's better for everyone."

"Well, congratulations, then." His tone was mocking. Sara's eyes flashed with hurt, and I snapped.

"Hey! Don't you take this out on her. She doesn't deserve any crap from you. She hasn't done anything wrong and you know it." My voice was louder than either of theirs had been and I realized I was standing. But that didn't stop me. "Now, I know that our relationship surprised you and you still need time to process all of this, and I'm sorry we had spring it on you like this, but there really wasn't any way around it other than to lie to you."

"Why are you here, Catherine? Sara's change of address is a matter for her and me. It doesn't really involve you, does it?"

I was taken aback by this new tactic but I didn't let it show. Instead I leaned over and jabbed a finger into his desk. "The second your immature remarks put that look on her face? That's when it involves me." I glared at him until he dropped his gaze.

"I think you'd better go, Catherine." His voice was quiet.

I clenched my jaw. "Gladly." I spun around and stalked out of the office. A few minutes later, I was fuming in the parking lot when Sara approached me. "Is that asshole happy?"

She smiled grimly, "Not exactly. That was some little show you put on in there."

"I did try not to say anything."

"I know, I could see you gripping your seat the whole time."

"It's just…I couldn't stand seeing him manipulate you like that."

"Manipulate? Grissom? Cath, I think he just didn't know how to react. Yeah, it hurt my feelings, but I don't think he did it on purpose."

I sighed, "I know, I know. I lost it, I'm sorry." I wasn't really sorry, in fact I still wanted to go back in there and yell at him some more. I was sorry that I seemed to have upset Sara, though. So I would at least apologize to her, even if I had no intention of apologizing to Gil. As far as I was concerned, he had gotten what he deserved.

Luckily, Sara smiled, "No big deal. You're pretty cute when you go all protective lioness."

I flashed a grin, instantly relaxed again, "And here I was going for daring and sexy."

"Oh, those too. And about a thousand other things."

"Should we take the girls out for breakfast?"

"And miss washing all those dishes? I thought you'd never ask."

IOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOI

Sara and I quickly learned that there is a lot you don't know about a person until you live with them. Sara, for instance, is a meticulous laundress. Where I would just divide into lights and darks and have done with it, Sara had a separate load for whites, colors, blacks, and delicates. Socks and bras do not go in the drier. Three quarters of a scoop is plenty detergent, a whole scoop is too much. This lead to a quite a row that ended up with Sara measuring the exact volume of my washing machine to prove to me her theory of the detergent to capacity ratio.

It took Lindsey coming to say, "Guys, it's just laundry. Chill out," for us to realize we were being ridiculous. I caved on laundry. I didn't actually care how it was done as long as it got done. Five females go through a lot of clothes. So, Sara got her way on that one. I won other things. No hard liquor in the house, shoes come off at the door, and, yes, knives can go in the dishwasher. Three children will give you a newfound appreciation for the dishwasher.

Another thing we learned is that Sara and I cannot go grocery shopping together. Ever.

"What's next on the list?"

"Orange juice."

"What kind?"

"I don't know, whatever's cheapest."

"How about this one? It's enriched with vitamin C."

"It's five dollars. And it has pulp, I hate pulp."

"Pulp is good for you."

"Says who?"

"Everybody."

"What's wrong with this one?"

"Cath, I don't even think that comes from oranges."

"It's called orange juice."

"Maybe they just mean the color."

"It's two dollars less than this organic crap."

"You can't put a price on your health."

"Yes, you can. It's five dollars, put it back."

"No."

"You are not putting that in this cart."

"Watch me."

OR

"Come on, chili is the king of all foods."

"I will not let the girls eat that garbage, it's a heart attack waiting to happen."

"Ayla's seven. If she drops dead of a heart attack, I will personally go on a crusade against all chili everywhere. Scout's honor."

"I seriously doubt you were ever a girl scout. And it's beside the point. Now, if it were vegetarian chili, I'd be willing to talk."

"I will not let the girls eat that garbage. You can't have vegetarian chili. It's like vegetarian beef- it's just not allowed to happen."

"Well, they aren't having chili in my house."

"Fine, but I'm putting back these soy nuggets and getting fish fingers."

"You can't do that."

"Watch me."

And so on. So we worked out a system where we make two lists and one of us goes to do the shopping. I learned to be very specific, because where I would write 'apples,' Sara would write 'six granny smith apples, unless they look bad, then get three Macintosh and three gala.' If I wasn't specific enough, Sara would deliberately get the wrong thing usually the healthier equivalent.

IOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOI

The week after we were finally moved in, brought the first day of school and all of the chaos that comes with it. Sara and I had left work early to get the girls dressed and fed. Since Ayla was going into third grade and Lindsey into fifth, they were going to the same school. But Maggie wasn't going to be four for another few weeks, so she was in preschool and consequently in another building halfway across town. This one day, Sara and I were taking them all together. After this we would split up and one of us would drive the older girls and the other would take Maggie.

Ayla was nervous about the third grade. Just because she was tall enough and advanced enough, didn't mean that a skinny, bespectacled seven year-old girl would be able to hold her own in a room full of loud, older children. To tell the truth, I was worried for her myself. I felt like it was Lindsey's very first day all over again and I wanted to march in there and tell Ayla's teacher exactly what I expected of her. But I didn't. Mostly because I had to hold Sara back from doing the same.

Lindsey was her typical confident self, and I was so proud of her. A gaggle of her little friends swamped her as soon as she got out of the car, but she ignored them and held tight to Ayla's hand.

"Oh, my God, Lindsey! I haven't seen you like, all summer!"

"Didn't you go to California?"

"Did you see a movie star?"

"Lauren said you went to hang out with your mom's girlfriend."

"Was that like, I don't know, really weird?"

"No, it was really awesome. Sara's the best. Look, I've got to show Ayla her classroom, but I'll tell you guys about it in a minute."

"Who's she?" I watched Ayla shrink back at the attention.

Lindsey shrugged, "This is Ayla. She's kind of like my new little sister," I saw Ayla's shy smile at that, "and she's never been to school here before so I'm going to show her around." She turned away from her friends and walked the few steps back to the truck. "You guys can go now, we'll be fine."

I stepped out of the car and squatted next to Ayla, "You sure you don't want me to come in and meet your teacher?"

Ayla looked at Lindsey then back at me, and nodded.

"See? We'll be okay. And I'll show her where we get picked up and everything."

Ayla wrapped her arms around my neck, "Bye, Catherine."

I shut my eyes and smiled. I felt so connected to this little girl, she had already become such a big part of me. I'm not sure what I expected when I signed up to be a part of these girls' lives. But I certainly didn't expect to love them the way I do, as if they really were my own. We were becoming more and more of a family each day, and what I felt for these girls was nothing short of fierce maternal love. To be the one this little girl came to for comfort filled me with an amazing sense of satisfaction.

I squeezed her tight and kissed her cheek. "By sweetie. You're gonna do great, okay?" Ayla nodded and pulled away, I looked to Lindsey. "Do I still get a kiss or are you too big for that now?"

"Mom," she lowered her voice, "all my friends are watching. Can you try to act a little cool?"

I smiled. I hadn't really expected to get away with it. I caught sight of Sara leaning against the rear bumper, clearly intimidated by the horde of giggling girls not ten feet away. But she smiled at us. "What about me? I'm way cooler than Mom right? Can I at least get a hug?"

Lindsey beamed, "Okay, but just one."

Sara kissed my daughter's head, "Have fun, Shortstuff. Pay attention."

"I will." Lindsey buried her head in Sara's stomach for a moment before reaching back for Ayla's hand.

Sara and I got back in the car. "Okay. Well take good care of each other. Either Sara or I will be back to pick you up. Bye Ayla, sweetie!"

Sara leaned over me and waved.

Ayla looked grimly at us like we were making her walk the plank, but Lindsey hugged her around the shoulders, "Bye Mom, bye Sara- bye Maggie."

So, things were coming along. We were learning to coexist. Work was better, Gil got slightly better. He still avoided us like the plague, but after a few weeks, there was less of that hell freezing over feeling every time the three of us were in the same room. And he had actually let us work a case together. Granted, Nick had been there too, but still. Things were getting better.

The guys were increasingly supportive. Greg and Sara took the girls out when I was shopping one day. When Greg realized what a chick magnet little kids were, he had asked if he could take them by himself next time because Sara 'brought him down.'

Later that morning, after we had left Maggie off, Sara and I enjoyed our first rest together in our very own bed. We cuddled up, sans clothes- a luxury we had not had since that day a month ago when Warrick took the girls. We lay talking for an hour about nothing really. Just the stuff that was filling up our new life together.

"I can't believe Maggie's going to be four soon." Sara scratched lightly at my hip.

"I know. Next year will be kindergarten- thank god."

"Hmm. Why thank god?"

"Then, at least for one year, we'll have them all at the same school. And I think Lindsey can take the bus to the middle school."

"You think about stuff like that? Like a year away?"

"Of course, why wouldn't I?"

"I don't know. I guess I'm just not used to thinking about the future." She kissed my forehead. "This is nice."

I hummed my agreement, nuzzling into her shoulder. "We need milk. And fruit."

"And pizza bagels."

"What happened to the eight I bought last week?"

"We must have eaten them."

"We, Sidle? I don't think so. I didn't have any. I think Linds and Ayla each had one on Thursday. That leaves six unaccounted for."

"There's still one left."

"Oh, okay." I rolled my eyes.

"I can take the older girls shopping when I pick them up."

"No, I'll take Maggie. Bring the girls home and get their homework done. And then Ayla has her tutor at four. We'll have to take them all to drop her off, since I want to meet this guy."

"Greg says he's awesome."

"Yeah, well, Greg can say he hung the moon. I am not leaving my seven year-old alone with some man I've never met."

"Fair enough." Sara yawned. "Oh, and we're out of popcorn and olives."

"Where did the box I just…? You know what, never mind. I do not want to know."

"They taste really good together."

"I didn't hear that."

Later that afternoon, I took Maggie with me to the store. When it had just been Lindsey and I, I had shopped for groceries about once every two weeks. With five of us though, we were lucky if we made it through the week with only two runs. Three children went through a gallon of milk in two or three days. I found myself wishing someone sold orange juice by the barrel, or macaroni by the bucket. How is it that children never get tired of macaroni?

"Hey, hey, Maggie May!" I lifted her up to sit in the in the seat at the front of the shopping cart before consulting my list. "We need apples! What letter does apple start with?"

"A!" Maggie and I started our alphabet game awhile ago when she became jealous of the older girls reading. She was old enough to learn, and she was getting pretty good. As long as I didn't throw her any tough ones, like 'shoe' or 'phone', she nearly always got them right.

"A is for apple! Good job. So," I said, looking at the paper in my hand before setting off toward the produce section, "we need apples, we need bananas, peanut butter, juice- what kind of juice should we get?"

"Grape! And apple and cranberry and fruit punch!"

"I don't think we can get that many, Miss Maggie May, we have so much else to carry!"

"Okay, just grape."

"Okay."

We wandered up and down the aisles in a practiced, familiar way. Fruit, lunchmeat, egg salad. Cucumbers, salad mix, balsamic vinegar. Pasta, pickles, pizza bagels. Bread, milk, parmesan cheese. Maggie talked me into sugar cereal, fruit punch, and tortilla chips before I put my foot down at chocolate popsicles. We were in the toilet paper aisle, trying to decide on either quilted, which was softer, or generic, which was cheaper, when a woman approached us. She had her small son in the front of her cart and a huge pocketbook on one shoulder.

"Oh, my God. Your daughter is gorgeous. She is just absolutely adorable!"

Maggie realized she was being talked about and grinned coyly. She was used to being adored.

"Uh…thank you."

"Hello, precious! What's your name?"

Maggie lit up at the attention of somebody new. "Magnolia Helena Holzman-Winger," she recited.

The woman was enchanted, as everyone always was. "That's a beautiful name, and how old are you, Magnolia?"

Maggie chortled at being called her real name. She held up three fingers. "My birthday is Sepnember 14th and then I will be four." She held out the appropriate number of fingers.

The woman shook her head at me, "She is simply adorable."

I smiled.

The woman beamed, "She has your eyes and your smile. Mischievous. Like she has a secret." She moved back to her cart and her son, and waved at Maggie, "Bye, Magnolia, it was nice to meet you."

Maggie waved back, "Bye-bye! Have a nice day!" She looked back at me and giggled, "Can we get string cheese? I love string cheese."

I watched the woman turn a corner and then smiled at the little girl who apparently had my eyes, "Oh, I think we could get one package of string cheese."

"Hooray!"

We finished up our shopping, paid, and left. All the while, my mind was back with those woman's words and the pride I had felt. The maternal pride. When we got home, as we were putting away groceries, I mentioned the encounter to Sara.

"We ran into this woman at the supermarket."

"Did you know her?"

"No, she just fell in love with Maggie. She actually stopped her cart to comment on how beautiful she is."

I saw Sara's eyes spark with the same pride I had felt. "Of course she did, who wouldn't love the sly munchkin?"

"Exactly. Anyway, so this woman? She thought I was the munchkin's mom."

Sara smirked as she handed me the yogurt, "Did you expect her to guess that the child in your cart was, in fact, your girlfriend's ward? Or was that just her second guess?"

I slapped her arm with a dish towel, "Smartass. No, I mean, she thought we looked alike."

Sara tilted her head to one side and looked over the counter to where the girls were playing in the living room. "You do, kind of."

I gave her a look.

"What?"

"Sara that little girl looks just like you. And what she doesn't get from you she gets from a man who looks nothing like me."

"I didn't say she was your clone, I just said I could see where the woman is coming from. It's not that you look alike, exactly. It's more like you have the same…energy. I can't explain it. She just is like you. I see it."

"Yeah, well. Anyway, it was kind of cool."

"What was?"

"Feeling like her mom for a second. Getting to take credit for a part of that," I gestured at the little girl wrecking a game board. I shrugged, "It was cool."

Sara came up behind me and kissed my shoulder. "You should take credit for a part of that," she spoke into my neck, wrapping her arms around my waist, "a bigger and bigger part every day."

I leaned back against her, stared up at her, and smiled, "You better put your pizza bagels away before they thaw." She pinched me and I gave a very unwomanly squeal.

"Last week some woman thought Greg and I were Lindsey's parents."

"I'm sure Greg was quick to set her straight."

"Yeah, apparently you're dead, he's been raising them alone, and I'm just a friend."

"Weasel."

"It's okay, I got even. The next three girls that came up to him I scared off by calling him 'honey' or 'baby' and giving them menacing jealous wife glares."

"Fantastic."

IOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOI

So? Whadya think? How about a welcome home review?