Author's Note: Thanks for keeping up with this. Other than that, I actually have nothing to say. R&R.

Chapter Ten: Girls and Boys

"I want to die!" he exclaimed as he wolfed down the pancakes in front of him. "These are amazing!"

"You've never been to an IHOP before?" Sara asked with a raise of her eyebrow.

He gave her a sarcastic look. "As if," he said, and then continued to eat the pancakes.

She smiled. "Well, I'm glad you're enjoying it. Are you ready to tell me what you were doing at my friends' crime scene?"

"No," he said with his mouth full.

She frowned at him. "Danny, you said you trusted me. I can't help you if I don't know what happened."

Danny sighed and put down his knife and fork. He looked up at Sara. "I won't go to jail?"

"That depends on if you tell me the truth or not," Sara replied. "Did you do anything you think you should go to jail for?"

He looked down. "Is listening to your stupid friend a crime?"

"Tell me what happened, Danny," Sara pleaded.

Danny sighed. "I didn't want to do it. Really, I didn't, I just… I wanted to have a nice Christmas for once. With Ian, that sort of thing is hard. And I care about him so much…"

"Ian?" Sara asked, confused, but Danny shook his head.

"Mickey," he said.

This was the first Sara had heard this name. "Who is Mickey?"

"Mickey Andrews," Danny explained, "is my very best friend in the world. You have to understand that, otherwise I'll sound like such a terrible person. I would do anything for Mickey, he's been through a lot, and he needs me. His whole family abandoned him on account of he's gay, and he was molested by a teacher at his school. And when he tried to tell the principal, he was already known as a liar and a troublemaker, so he was expelled. Now, he lives with me, because I'm all he's got. And frankly, he's all I've got too."

"You've got me," Sara said softly.

Danny smiled, and blushed a little. "I know that, now," he said. "Thanks."

She reached out and covered his hand with her own. This gave him the courage to continue. "We met at the school, before Ian took me out. He's been living in my tree house. I sleep there with him sometimes. Well, about a month ago, he got this idea into his head. He said there was this person he had to take care of and… and then he started… planning. All these things, all based on the Sneaky Santa Killer. He collected newspapers like valued baseball cards. He learned every detail, planned everything. And then he stole a gun from my uncle's room. And he went to that house… And… And… And then he didn't just kill one person, like I thought. He killed all of them… And… I didn't kill anyone, honest I didn't! I played guard dog, I looked out for him, and I helped take the stuff, but I didn't kill anyone. He wanted me to, but I couldn't do it. I couldn't do it. Sara… Sara, please don't look at me like that."

Sara's expression had faded from warm understanding to a cold inscrutability that Danny couldn't read and he didn't like it. She swallowed. "Danny… This is very bad."

Danny jumped to his feet. "You said you wouldn't turn me in!" he said, his voice cracking with panic.

Sara's eyes widened, telling him to sit down. "And I won't," she said. "Not until I talk to Mickey."

Danny calmed down as he sat back down, taking deep breaths. "I can't let you do that," he said.

"Danny, if what you're telling me is true, then Mickey is a killer," Sara said sternly. "I don't care what his reasons were, he killed a mother and a father, and two innocent kids. A nine-year-old girl and a twelve-year-old boy. Their names were Luke and Erika. The parents names were Karen and Jonathan. And Mickey killed them, Danny!"

He was playing with his food. "You didn't have to do that," he whispered. "You didn't have to tell me their names."

"I know you care about him," Sara said, trying to be understanding. "And I know you want what's best for him. But think about what he did a minute here, Danny. He planned a quadruple homicide, that's four counts of murder one, Danny. Do you even know why he did it? Why he chose this family?"

Slowly, reluctantly, Danny shook his head.

Sara sighed and leaned across the table so she could cup his cheek in her hand as she looked him in the eye. "Danny… sweetie… I want to help you, I do. But if I take you in now, with those shoes, you're going to be the prime and only suspect in that case, and they won't believe a word you say because of it. We've got to find Mickey. We've got to find Mickey so I can help you."

But Danny pulled away from her touch and folded his arms resolutely as he shook his head. "I'm not selling out my best friend," he said. "Not even for you, Sara."

"Danny, it's only a matter of time before the evidence leads to Mickey anyway," Sara replied. "Catherine had DNA evidence, Greg ran your shoe tread… They will find you. Both of you. And when they do, I won't be able to help you as much as I can right now. If we go in there, you can talk to Captain Brass, I'll help you out, I'll get you a lawyer, and you'll probably get a suspended sentence for accessory and tried as a juvenile. And we can help Mickey, too. If he confesses, if he cooperates, he'll get a much better deal than he would if they find him on their own, which, I can assure you Danny, will happen."

The mentions of the CSI names seemed to stir something in Danny and he looked up at Sara, curiously. "Is it true that Greg killed his sister?"

Sara blinked. "What?"

"We looked it up at the library," Danny said. "Mickey wanted dirt on the two CSIs at the crime scene. It said he was suspected of killing his sister, but he was cleared. Do you know if he actually did it and got away with it?"

"You must be talking about a different Greg Sanders…" Sara replied, shaking her head.

"Greg Sanders from San Gabriel, California. Parents, Mark Sanders and Olivia Hojem-Sanders. Sister, Lucy Sanders, April 1979-December 1985. Am I warm?"

Sara knew Greg lived in San Gabriel, and his mother's maiden name. But Greg never had a sister that she knew of, or at least he had never mentioned her. She shook it off. "This is irrelevant, Danny. You're trying to change the subject."

"I'm not," Danny protested. "If your friend Greg can get away with murder, why can't I?"

Sara didn't like these accusations. "Danny, leave Greg out of this. This is about you. Take me to Mickey."

Danny was shaking his head. "He won't like that," he said, sounding cool and disconnected.

"I really want to help you, Danny," Sara said. "I'm trying the only way I know how."

"You could just let me go," Danny suggested.

"I can't do that," Sara replied. "It isn't right."

"It isn't legal, you mean," Danny corrected. "It sounds 'right' to me."

He was being difficult on purpose, and Sara could tell. He was trying to make her angry, to push her away, so maybe she would abandon him and he could make a run for it. She was determined to thwart this plan. "You can try to upset me, Danny, but it won't work. I'm not leaving you alone. There's only one way we can make this work and that is if we find your friend."

He was conflicted, Sara could tell. He thought about it for a long time. Finally, he sighed. "I'm supposed to meet him at the library soon," he said quietly. "He's probably there right now."

"Good," Sara said, rising to her feet. "Let's go."

Greg sat there with his hands between his knees as he stared at the floor, Nick sitting opposite him and equally quiet.

They hadn't spoken for so long that when Greg broke the silence, his voice sounded unnaturally loud. "I know that…" He paused, reeling from the sound of his own voice echoing in his head. "I know that you already think that I don't… appreciate privacy," he said. "But it's only by focusing on something else that I can keep my own secrets. I do appreciate privacy, Nick. I don't care what it was that had Catherine all shook up, I only care that she was shook up. I understand that she might want to keep things to herself. I didn't want to tell you this, either. I didn't want to tell anyone this." He looked up at Nick. "You hate me right now, don't you?"

"No," Nick said, his own voice also loud in the quiet room. "No, Greg, I don't hate you. You were just a kid. And you were scared and you didn't know what to do. You didn't do anything wrong."

"About Catherine…" Greg began, but Nick cut him off.

"About Catherine nothing," he said. "I've been thinking about it a lot and I haven't seen her yet, but I think you were right. Work relationships are a bad idea. And they do affect everyone."

"No," Greg said. "I wasn't…" He looked away from Nick. "I mean, I was… kinda jealous, that's all."

Nick frowned, confused. "Jealous?"

"Well, yeah," Greg said. "I mean, Catherine is fantastic, and the last girlfriend I had was a total airhead, she didn't know thymine from uracil. Plus, I've been jumping through hoops for this one girl, and she barely acknowledges my existence, so… I'm happy for you, man. Really, I am. If you like her, I say go for it."

Nick smiled appreciatively at him. "OK, Greg," he said. He rose to his feet and shook the letter Greg had handed him. "I'm going to process this personally, OK? Warrick and Sara won't lay a hand on it, cross my heart. No one else needs to know."

"I really appreciate that, Nick," Greg said quietly, and Nick headed towards the door. "It's why everyone trusts you, you know," he said loudly, making Nick stop.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"You're good at making people feel normal," Greg replied, turning in his chair to smile at Nick. "You're good at making people feel… safe."

"I hate to break it to you, pal," Nick said with a smirk. "But you're so far from normal, you're on another planet."

"Planet, schmanet," Greg said dismissively.

Nick and Greg's eyes met and they both grinned. When they spoke, they said the same thing simultaneously. "Janet."

There was a knock before someone opened the door. Catherine poked her head in. "Hey, Greg, Grissom told me you were…" She trailed off at the sight of Nick, but quickly shook it off. "… in here. Um… I'll be outside when you boys are done, OK?"

"Catherine, wait," Nick said as she made to leave. But she closed the door and he followed her, walking swiftly after her as she made her way down the hall. "Catherine!"

She stopped and spun around. "OK, I'm sorry, Nick," she burst out, finally, sounding like she had held this in all night. "I'm so sorry, I don't know what came over me, I really care about you as a friend, and I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable for any reason, and it would kill me if I ruined that, so I'm sorry!"

"Hey," Nick said seriously. "If I recall, I was kissing you back."

She frowned. "Wha…?"

He grinned as he approached her and slid his arms around her waist, pulling her close to him. She was startled and she stumbled, the palms of her hands resting on his chest. She looked up at him. "Cath… If you're really sorry about what happened, well then… Fine. But the truth is, I'm not."

To his great surprise, she pushed him away and shook her head. "I'm… sorry, Nick," she said. "For… everything." She backed away from Nick, still shaking her head apologetically before she turned and made her way down the hall, leaving Nick to stare blankly after her.

Greg exited the room and stood next to his friend. "I take it you didn't exactly sweep her off her feet?"

Nick's dark brown eyes were staring at the spot Catherine had disappeared. "I thought we both wanted the same thing…"

Greg followed his gaze. "Girls," he said. "They can really put you in a funk, eh?"

Sara pulled up outside of the university library. Danny turned to her.

"You stay here," he said. "Let me talk to Mickey. Bring him down slowly."

"OK," Sara said.

Danny looked at her for a long time. "You promise me that he'll be treated well? He's been through enough as it is."

"I…" Sara didn't know what she could promise him. "I can promise to you that his past will be taken into account," she said. "He'll be treated as fairly as anyone."

He grimaced, obviously not happy with her words. "I just want him to be safe. I want him to be OK."

"I understand that, Danny, I really do," Sara said.

He smiled at her and leaned over the space between the seats to embrace her. She returned it and he whispered in your ear. "You remind me of my mother," he said. "Only a lot stronger."

She smiled appreciatively at the compliment then pulled away. She looked at Danny, trying to instill courage in him to stand up to his friend. "You can do this, Danny. I know you can."

He nodded. "OK. I'll be back in a minute."

Danny jumped out of the car and entered the library lobby. He gave a polite nod to the librarian, who didn't look like she was happy to be there at all. He found Mickey lurking by the magazine section, a copy of the latest Time Magazine sprawled across his lap as he read. He looked up at Danny, his face wearing a peculiar expression that Danny couldn't decipher. He didn't know what he had expected of Mickey. Annoyance at the fact that Danny was late, relief at seeing Danny had made it at all, shock at the livid bruise growing on his cheek, or just happy to see him in general. But Mickey was none of these things. His face was completely calm, casual, as though meeting an acquaintance he hadn't been expecting.

"There's an article in here about Benedict Arnold."

"I've never heard of him," Danny said. And he knew that Mickey hadn't either, until he'd read the article, but nonetheless Mickey looked surprised and condescended to him in a very irritating manner.

"You've never heard of Benedict Arnold?"

"Who was he, an astronaut?" Danny asked. "Did he invent eggs benedict or something?"

Mickey laughed in a contemptuous way and Danny was beginning to feel uneasy. "No, you dolt, Benedict Arnold fought for the American Revolution. Until he got control over West Point and planned to surrender it to the British. I would have thought you would have heard of him, Danny, you being so smart and all. I would have thought he was your hero."

"I flunked history and you know it," Danny snapped, angrily. "And what does he have to do with me, Mickey, huh? Aren't you glad to see me? Aren't you glad to see that I'm OK? That Ian didn't kill me? He saw me kissing you, you know. He beat me for being gay."

"But you're not gay!" Mickey said, in mock innocence as he threw the Time Magazine aside. "Or, at least, that's what I heard you shouting at him when he hit you."

If this was all Mickey was mad about, Danny could deal with it. "Well, what do you expect me to say, Mickey, when I'm getting my ass kicked by a gay-basher? Do you want me to wave my little rainbow flag? Do you want me to launch my own little pride parade? Hell no. I kept a low profile—"

"But it's true, isn't it?" Mickey asked, now on his feet and inches away from Danny's face. "It's true that you're not gay. Isn't it?"

Danny laughed, nervously. "What are you talking about, Mickey, of course it's not true—"

"Then kiss me," Mickey said simply. "Kiss me right here and prove it."

Danny's lip quivered. "I told you, Mickey, not in public—"

"Not in public," Mickey deadpanned, his lips straight as he nodded. "Not in public, that's what you always say. You know, I always thought you were just in the closet? Which, you know, is annoying, but tolerable. You're embarrassed, that's OK, I went through that stage too, and I would help you be OK with yourself eventually. But if that's the case, Danny, then tell me something. Tell me why every time I kiss you, in public or not, you're always so reluctant? Tell me why you tense up when I put my arm around you? Tell me why I'm the one initiating everything?"

Danny felt helpless. He didn't know what to say. "Mickey, I love—"

Mickey cut him off with a brief, disbelieving laugh as he shook his head. "No, Danny. You don't."

He turned around and shook his head as he walked back over to the magazine rack, tracing the titles absently as he spoke. "You know, Danny… I really wish you'd told me this sooner, that you were straight. It would have saved me a whole lot of grief, worrying about you. But you understand now, why I can't trust you completely, right? Because in the end, you trust someone too much, you get betrayed. Still, I trusted you a little, didn't I? And because of that… I got betrayed. A little." He looked at Danny over his shoulder. "I saw you with that whore."

Danny frowned. "I beg your pardon?"

"After I left, I was worried about you…" Mickey said, in a small voice, as though this tiny sign of emotion was some sort of weakness now. "So I stuck around. I watched. You said some pretty nice things about me, Danny, I heard. That is, if you meant them."

"Mickey, of course I meant them—" Danny began but Mickey cut him off again.

"Like you meant that you're not gay?"

Danny faltered. "Mickey—"

"So which is it, Danny?" Mickey asked. "Were you lying? Or were you telling the truth? Either way, it doesn't matter, because I'll find out soon enough."

"What are you talking about, Mickey?" Danny asked, slightly frightened now.

Mickey was stern. "You went to that phone, and you called her," he said, spitting out her name as though he was disgusted by it. "You waited for her and then you let her touch you and baby you and take you in her car…" His next words came out in a furious whisper. "You were supposed to meet me here at the library and instead you call a cop!"

"She's not a cop, she's a CSI, and she wants to help us," Danny said, glad that they were on the subject. "She wants to help, Mickey—"

"Bullshit," Mickey spat. "She wants to lock you up, Danny, I'm the only friend you've got. So this is what you've gotta do for me…"

"I don't want to do anything to hurt Sara," Danny said, knowing exactly where this was going.

A small, sinister smile curled itself on Mickey's lips. "Oh, we won't hurt her," he said, his voice sickeningly sweet. "Much."

"I won't do it," Danny said, folding his arms resolutely.

"It's her or me, Danny," Mickey said seriously. "Either you go with her, and probably a lifetime in prison for accessory to murder, or you go with me and we can runaway to Panama together. Just like you always dreamed of doing with your Dad, but never could. Choose now, Danny, and choose wisely, because if you choose wrong, you'll be losing a very good friend."

Danny took deep breaths and stared at Mickey for a long time.