See Chapter One for Disclaimer and Other Notes

NOTES: Weekly CSIPrompts Challenge 3: Must start with the line: "Hey, I've got two tickets to see Monty Python's Spamalot. Care to join me?" Topic: Medieval Comedy; Random Prompts (use or don't use - it's up to you): Rubber fish, bucket of water, jello, and bubble bath.

A/N 2: Updates will be either on Sundays or Mondays because the prompts are released every Sunday and I don't write until I have the prompts. Thank you to csigeekfan for the prompts. And thanks to everyone who has been reading and reviewing this story. And hopefully the info on Monty Python's Spamalot from Wikipedia was correct, if not, blame Wiki, not me…LOL.

Chapter 3

"Hey, I've got two tickets to see Monty Python's Spamalot. Care to join me?"

"No, Gil and I went opening night at the Wynn's Grail Theater a couple of weeks ago." Sara replied.

"Grissom likes Monty Python?" Greg Sanders' eyes were wide in question, as Sara nodded 'yes' to his question.

"How did you guys get tickets? These tickets that I have were the earliest I could get and the show has been going on for two and a half weeks." Greg asked excitedly.

"Well, Gil ordered them online while he was eating cherry Jell-O and I was in the bathtub taking a bubble bath." Sara smiled at Greg's incredulous look her way.

"TMI, Sar, TMI." He was laughing before he continued, "So, who was your favorite character in the play?"

Sara considered his question and responded, "Sir Bedevere."

Greg's confusion was evident: "Who?"

"He reminds me a lot of you. He is the wise, but smelly knight." Sara looked at Greg's appearance, obliviously he'd been dumpster diving with a few decomps. "Lemons, Greg. Use lemons when you shower and you are on your way to the locker room to bathe aren't you?"

Greg sent her a smirk on his way to the showers. Sara made her way through the halls of Las Vegas' Crime Lab.

"Hey, Sara?" The sound of the feminine voice caught her attention as she was making way toward the layout room to go over further evidence from the Green case. The teenager's body had been found floating in Lake Mead three days ago. Sara was still no closer to discovering what had happened to him than when David had pulled the body out of the water. There was many inconsistencies with the father's story and the evidence.

"Yeah?" Sara looked around trying to determine who had called her name, she had thought it was Wendy's, but maybe it had been Mandy's.

"Hey, girl." The woman's voice came out of the fingerprint lab.

When Sara saw who it was, she exclaimed: "Jacqui! What are you doing here?"

The woman looked at Sara like she'd sprouted an extra head. "Uhm, Sara, in case you didn't get the memo, I work here. I'm doing a night rotation while Mandy is on vacation for the week." Jacqui Franco laughed.

"Those fingerprints in the Green case from the hotel room: hits on all of them. Harry Green's prints were everywhere; he's in the system for a 1977 conviction in Florida for distribution of a controlled substance. Duncan Green's prints were only on the suitcase, none in the hotel room itself. Now, here's the fun part: there is a total of five different sets of prints all over the room that came back through CODIS. Sarah LaRue, Jayne Landers, Britney Jones, Ka'Ne'Sha Howard, and Alicia King. All working girls, with convictions for first one thing and another."

"That's a lot of working girls," Sara frowned, "but Harry did say he'd spent his time "drinking and whoring" after he dropped Duncan off at the skatepark until Brass' people knocked on his hotel door. So, I guess he had use for more than one woman. Are any of them currently in jail, per chance?"

Jacqui removed her glasses from her nose. "Yes, Ka'Ne'Sha on a drug charge and Britney on a charge of attempting to sell stolen property." She held the light-weight lens in her hand for a moment before pointed them at Sara. "You are sounding more and more like Grissom everyday. When's the due date?"

"May 21st. Gil Jr. here is definitely going to be an athlete; his kicks are getting more powerful by the day," Sara said proudly.

Jacqui lifted her eyebrows slightly and asked a silent question. Sara silently replied nodded her head, as Jacqui rubbed Sara's prominent stomach, feeling for herself the baby's movements. While Jacqui appeared to be somewhat wary, Sara had gotten used to people wanting to touch her stomach. It had bothered her for a time, but since the boy was kicking so much, she enjoyed other's sharing the wonderful signs of life.

"I guess nobody threw a bucket of water on the two of you when you were on the honeymoon, did they?"

Sara looked flabbergasted. "What?"

"The honeymoon was hot, huh?" Sara turned red. Jacqui continued, as she put her glasses back on, "Well, there is an old wives tale that says if you throw a bucket of water on the couple after they get married, then they won't conceive. But there is also the ancient medieval tradition of throwing rice on a couple after they tie the knot to ensure fertility." Jacqui smiled at Sara.

Sara laughed at her statement, "Did you tell this story to Greg? Because I swear, all the guys dumped tons of rice on us when we left the church."

"So, it's not Grissom's fault you're pregnant? It's Greg's?" Jacqui deadpanned as she looked over her glasses at Sara.

Both women erupted in laughter.

Ka'Ne'Sha Howard was sitting in the interrogation room drumming her long red carefully manicured nails along the opaque surface of the table, looking positively bored.

Captain Jim Brass entered the room briskly, slamming the door behind him. Sara Sidle-Grissom stood behind the two way mirror, awaiting the questioning to begin.

"Hi Ka'Ne'Sha. I'm Jim." Brass began.

"No, Jim, I'm not giving you a freebie," Ms. Howard frowned in his direction.

Brass smiled. He liked this girl. "I wasn't asking. Your fingerprints are all over a hotel room."

"No surprise there, Jim. I'm in a lot of hotel rooms." The hooker replied, staring at her nails, picking at some non-existent particle from beneath the length of her index finger.

"No surprise there, Ka'Ne'Sha," Jim slammed his hand down on the table to get her attention. "Listen, chick, I need some info on a 'John' you had: redneck trucker kinda fella, last week at the Motel 6."

"Redneck trucker? Musta been that guy Harry. He was hung like a horse. Me and LaRue and Jaynnie went to his room and he satisfied us all." The woman winked at Brass.

"Any other guys there beside Harry?" Brass questioned.

"Nah, just the four of us."

"You ever see this guy?" He placed an autopsy photo of Duncan Green on the table.

"Nope. And you ain't gotta hit me upside the head with a rubber fish or chicken or whatever it is you cops use to get peeps to spill the beans. I don't like lookin' at dead folks, and 'cause I don't know nothing else."

Britney Jones' pose was almost identical to the previous occupant in the interrogation room, both drummed their long nails against the table; however Britney's nail's were a neon pink as compared to the other woman's 'British Red Coat' red.

Sara entered the room and quietly placed the same autopsy photo on the table in front of the blonde woman.

"You ever seen him before?" Sara looked down at the woman as she stood above the woman's left shoulder for a moment, before Sara moved to the other side of the table to sit in the uncomfortable seat.

The woman picked up the picture, using only her pink nails and looked at the clean shaven head, and body that clearly showed the 'Y' incision of the dead youth. She gazed for a moment, slightly squinting at the image. Nearly two minutes passed before the woman spoke in a rush.

"Yeah, I was tricking on Lake Mead Boulevard and this old guy picks me up and the kid was in the back seat, but his hair was really curly. I always remember everything dealing with a customer, in case something bad happens. He's dead, huh?"

"Yes, his name was Duncan Green and the 'old guy' was his dad," Sara told her.

"He said his name was Harry, and that was certainly true: he had hair everywhere, even on his back. We dropped the kid off at the skatepark and then me and Harry went back to his hotel."

"What day was that?" Sara's voice was quiet, as she watched the woman first scratch her forehead and then lean slightly to the left, crossing her long legs in the opposite direction.

"Hmmm, let me see, on Friday, I went in for a check-up at the free clinic. It was before that. Thursday, I wasn't in Vegas cause I went up to Hiko on a call out with a long time customer. So, it musta been on Wednesday."

"Wednesday, April 9th?" Sara attempting to clarify the woman's statement.

"Yes."

"Do you remember anything else?"

"We dropped off the boy, the old man gave him two Benjamins, said, 'See you later, Dunk.", the boy said, "Later." He went into the building and I never saw him again, until you showed me that pic. Then the old man drove to pick up some whiskey and then we began our own transaction." Britney smiled at Sara.

The evidence validated what the woman was saying: the date on the receipt at the skatepark was dated on the 9th, the skateboard accessories totaled 142 dollars and there also had been a receipt from a McDonald's close to the park in Duncan's wallet, also dated on the 9th for two 'hot and spicies' and a large strawberry shake. And there had been 47 dollars left in the youth's wallet.

"The old man said he dropped the boy off on Friday, are you sure?" Sara looked into the brown eyes of the witness.

"Yes, I'm sure. Because when we stopped off at a store, he bought a case of Jack Daniels. If he drank all that, there's no wonder he doesn't remember what day it was. But at least I got a good memory for stuff like that."

"Anything else?" Sara inquired.

"I don't think so." Britney said.

"Thank you for your help in this matter."

The uniformed officer lead the woman back to her cell.

Gil Grissom and Al Robbins had just shared a meal at the diner near the crime lab. They were seated in a semi-comfortable booth, savoring their coffees.

"So, Gil, did you make the deadline?" Al asked with a slight grin on his face.

"What deadline?" Grissom was clearly confused.

"April 15th? You know, Gil, the tax deadline?" Al laughed at Grissom's apparent confusion.

"Yeah, I got to the post office on time, but all I did was file an extension. I have to get an accountant. Taxes are not my forte. I never knew that being married could seriously change a persons tax status."

"Welcome to married life, Gil."

TBC