Disclaimer: All rights are that of CBS

A/N So here's chapter two, I tried to make it longer, at a reviewer's suggestion. Let me know what you think, and happy reading! Hope you like it! -Solomynne

"Lemons are a very underestimated fruit," explained Sara seriously as she and Joslyn drove along Fremont. "They're a lot more useful than you'd think."

"So what," scoffed Joslyn, "We're going to use lemons to catch our killer?"

"Hardly," retorted Sara, giving her a look as she turned off the bustling street, "but they work wonders for getting rid of stubborn smells." Joslyn, holding the two grocery bags full of lemons they'd just bought looked at her blankly and Sara continued. "Did you notice the looks we got from the officers on the way back from the scene? They were practically gagging. The smell of a decomp like that will cling to anything that comes within two feet of it. Believe me, a stench like that isn't easy to get rid of."

Unconvinced, Joslyn lifted her own wrist to her nose and smelled it tentatively. Catching Sara laughing at her, she knit her eyebrows and said, "I don't smell anything."

"Well you wouldn't. Not yet at least, we haven't spent that much time with the body yet. But by the end of shift, guaranteed no one's going to come within three feet of you. Hence, lemons."

"You sound like you speak from experience."

"More experience than I'd care to have, in fact," said Sara wryly as they pulled into the staff parking at the lab. Not noticing that Joslyn had to trot to keep up with her long strides, Sara crossed the parking lot in five steps and pushed open the glass front door. Feeling the familiar breath of the air-conditioned lab brush against her face, Sara turned to see Joslyn had stopped, hesitant. "What' s wrong?" The young woman appeared to be rooted to the spot, the warm night air blowing her blonde hair into her eyes.

"Nothing, just a little nervous I guess," she answered quietly. "I'm not really good with meeting new people." Sara gave her a reassuring smile and took a step inside.

"You'll be fine, honestly. These are good people. They don't bite. Well, most of them don't. If you meet anyone named Ecklie just back away slowly and don't make any sudden movements." Too nervous to notice Sara's attempt at comedy, Joslyn reluctantly put one foot in front of the other. The white noise of the lab washed over them as they entered: telephones ringing, machines buzzing, and coffee machines brewing. After stopping to drop off their jackets in the lockers, Sara and Joslyn headed to the break room for the dreaded introductions. People whisked past them with every step, a determined looking secretary here, a white-coated lab tech there... Everyone, it seemed, was doing something.

Everyone except the people in the break room that is. They walked in to find Greg bent down eyelevel to the coffee maker, watching each rich drop fall into the pot waiting below. Nick and Warrick were seated at the table, playing chess and waiting for Grissom to come with their assignments, and Catherine was flipping through a dated magazine with a bored look on her face. A resounding beep broke the silence and Greg scooped up the steaming pot in one swift motion, pouring himself a generous cup. Holding the mug in both hands he brought it to his face and inhaled deeply, "Ahhh the sweet smell of justice. Without this stuff, none of us would be able to do our jobs, am I right?"

"Yeah, yeah, Nabob McFolgers, we get it," said Catherine dryly as she rubbed her wrist against a perfume sample in the magazine.

"Check," said Warrick smugly, knocking Nick's knight off the board.

Sara cleared her throat, and everyone turned to face the doorway. "Guys, I'd like to introduce you to someone. This is Joslyn Grace. I don't know if Grissom told you; God knows he didn't tell me, but she's gonna be working with us for a while as a student. Working with me, actually."

"Nice to meet you," said Greg, swooping in with an outstretched hand, "I'm Greg Sanders". Not missing a beat, Warrick stood and introduced himself as well, followed by the others.

"Would you like a cup of coffee?" Greg asked, offering her a mug.

"Yeah, I'd love one," she responded, warming to him. She bent down to place her kit on the ground, giving the guys a chance to give her a once over. Catherine swatted at Greg, who was pretending to have burned his finger on Joslyn's ass, mouthing the word "hot" to a laughing Nick and Warrick. Sara, shooting him a venomous look, pulled up a chair and sat down.

"What's up?" asked Catherine raising her eyebrows. "I thought you already had a case, something about a girl in an oil drum?"

"Yeah, well we have to wait for David to extract her from it before we can start processing. He should be beeping me any minute." As if on cue, the black beeper strapped to her hip started to wail. Plucking it off the waist of her jeans, she glanced at the message and stood up. "Well, sorry to cut this short but we've get a date with David in the morgue. Looks like he's got something for us. Jos?" she said, turning to her new companion who'd curled up on the couch.

"Yeah," she responded, setting down the steaming mug and reaching for her kit. Greg, with a speed previously only known to Superman, came to help her up. He placed an a hand on her back in an unnecessary attempt to keep her steady. "Thanks," she said, looking up at him shyly.

"No problem," he said, handing her her kit. Taking it, she followed Sara out the door and towards the morgue, unaware of the four sets of eyes burning into her back.

"Wow, she's really something," said Greg, spinning to face the others.

"Yeah, she was cute," said Warrick, amused.

"Cute? No; cute is a puppy dog that just licked your face. This girl was gorgeous; did you see those green eyes? They were killer!" he panted, seating himself beside Warrick. "Nick, what did you think?"

"I think she's too young for you," replied Nick, not looking up from his game of chess. Unperturbed, Greg turned to Catherine, expectant. She glanced up from the article she was reading, replying only with a: "I think it best if you stick to your Blue Hawaiian Coffee."

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Over in the dim blue light of the morgue, Sara and Joslyn were donning a pair of white cotton masks at David's request. The sterile smell of the equipment fought for dominance with the ghastly odor of the young corpse that lay on the cold steel, still curled into the shape of the oil barrel.

"As if these will make a difference," whispered Joslyn conspiratorially, helping Sara tie her mask on. "That smell could seep through a lead wall."

"I think it's more of a biohazard issue," responded Sara, her voice muffled through the thin material. A thought striking her, Sara turned to face Joslyn and regarded her for a moment.

"What is it?" asked Joslyn, catching her eye.

"Is this your first autopsy?" questioned Sara. Joslyn looked up at her, her green eyes glittering over the top of her mask like emeralds.

"I was sick with the flu the day my class went on the fieldtrip to the morgue."

"So that's a yes," said Sara.

Joslyn nodded in agreement, "I've never been a squeamish person though. Well…not including earlier today, anyway. I don't think I'll have a problem."

Although Joslyn couldn't see it through the mask, Sara was characteristically pursing her lips in a sarcastic smile. "We'll see," she teased. Joslyn nudged her playfully as they walked over to David.

"So, what have you got for us?" asked Sara as David and his assistant each took a grip on the young victim, he with her forearms, his partner with her ankles.

"Well," he started, "I noted some scratches on her arms, and some other fibers wedged in her palm. I documented the scratches and sent the fibers to trace, but I thought you might like to give her a look over before we began the autopsy." With that, he nodded to his assistant, and they began to pull. With a series of popping noises and some grunts from the two men, they managed to straighten out the body into a regular lying position. Sara glanced at Joslyn, whose face (what she could see of it at least) was transfixed in an expression of horror.

"Sorry, I probably should've warned you about that," she said apologetically. Joslyn, eyes wide as saucers, simply shook her head to assure that she was fine.

Sara decided to take her word for it, and leaned in to get a closer look. "Can you turn her head for me please?" she asked. David reached out, twisting her head so Sara could get a view of the back of the neck. "Jos, come look at this," she said, beckoning to Joslyn with her hand. Joslyn, a little reluctantly, came closer to the slab and leaned her head down to see what Sara was looking at. "Do you see this?" asked Sara, pointing to a red cut on the vic's neck. "What does that look like to you?"

Resisting the urge to gag from the close proximity, Joslyn squinted. "The marks are strange, there's a pattern in the indentation. Could be a chain, like from a necklace."

Sara turned to look at her, her brown eyes bright, "Like from the necklace we found at the scene. The blood we found on it was probably from when someone ripped it off her neck." Joslyn looked past Sara to the victim's face. A sad expression came over her.

"What are you thinking about?"

Joslyn turned back to Sara, "What could she have done to make someone so angry?"

Sara, surprised by the question, searched for an answer. After a few moments she found that for the second time since they'd met, Joslyn had left her speechless.

David cleared his throat, "Girls, I'm sorry but we've got to get this done with as soon as possible. A decomp like this can stink up a building for years, we have to get her cremated before this smell starts to set in."

Sara looked back to the barrel that sat on the floor, a thick layer of goo lining the bottom. "It doesn't look like there's much left of her to cremate, let alone autopsy. I think most of what's left of her is in that barrel. Her body's just bone and a thin layer of fat."

David nodded, pushing his black-rimmed glasses up his nose, "Agreed, but we've still got to try and find cause of death."

"Well, get to it," said Sara, her smile heard in the words.

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Twenty minutes later, Sara stood in the doorway to one of the stalls in the ladies' washroom, listening to the sound of Joslyn retching over the toilet bowl. She'd been doing fine through most of the autopsy; if you could call it that. There hadn't been much to work with, but as David had started scooping out what was left of the victim's internal organs, a dollop of green, emaciated innards had splattered across Joslyn's forehead as it was being placed in the medical tray beside her. After that all Hell had broken lose, ending with Joslyn tearing her mask off and making a mad dash to the washrooms. Sara had pulled Joslyn's hair back, holding it out of her face while she finished. She hadn't been much of a partier in college, so Sara had little experience with this sort of thing, but she did her best to reenact what she'd seen people do in movies. She rubbed her back, saying, "It's okay, just let it a-a-all out." Then she felt a little silly and decided that just being there was probably enough.

When Jos had thrown up everything she could have possibly had in her stomach, and maybe more, Sara helped her to her feet and together they made their way to the sink. Joslyn rinsed out her mouth and splashed water over her face, then leaned up against the cool porcelain tiles of the wall. Her neck and chest glistening with sweat, and drops of water hanging from her long lashes, she looked good for someone who'd just spent the last ten minutes kneeling over a toilet bowl.

"Sorry about that," she said weakly, opening her eyes to look at Sara. "I was trying so hard, but when that—whatever it was landed on my face, I knew it was over."

Sara fought the urge to laugh, and held out a paper towel for her to dry her face. "Well at least we managed to learn cause of death beforehand," she said brightly, "And David thinks there's a good chance that we'll be able to get an ID from her unique dental work, so we lucked out there too. Come on," she said, glancing at her reflection in the mirror before heading for the door, " Let's go to the break room and grab something for you to put in your stomach. Then we'll find Grissom and tell him our findings."

Pushing off from the wall, Joslyn tossed out the paper towel and followed her outside. As they made their way through the winding halls of the lab, Joslyn found herself fascinated with the half- glass structure of the building. Being practically able to see from one side of the lab to the other, it made her feel comforted, like she wasn't alone. She could see all of the people laughing with each other, working with each other, and she was glad that at least for a time, she got to be part of it too.

"You coming?"

Joslyn snapped back to reality, realizing that during her survey of the lab she had actually stopped walking. She flashed Sara a smile and jogged the length of the hall, catching up with her as they entered the break room for the second time. It had emptied out, except for Greg who was sitting at the table, everyone having been given his or her respective assignments for the night. Sara slid into the seat next to him and raised an eyebrow.

"Are you planning on doing any work at all tonight, Greg?"

He pushed her lightly, and she laughed. "I'll have you know, Ms. Sidle, that I have been working non-stop on a case from dayshift, and this is only the second time I've had a break all day. He turned to Joslyn, "Don't believe anything she tells you about me. You see, she just has a bit of a crush on me, and in order to keep me for herself I think she'd probably do or say anything to make sure nothing would jeopardize her position." Sara gave him a look that would've made some grown men cry, and opted not to humor him with the scathing retort he was trying to provoke.

The lighting being better than in the bathroom, she noticed that Joslyn's face was ashen, and she stood to get her a glass of water. Greg, apparently having noticed the same thing asked, "Hey are you okay? You look a little pale."

Joslyn colored and replied, "Yeah, I just wasn't feeling well for a while."

Knowing he was missing something, Greg turned to Sara for an explanation. She placed the glass of water in front of Joslyn, who thanked her with a smile, and sat down next to Greg again.

"Joslyn just witnessed her first autopsy."

"Oh," replied Greg, looking knowingly Joslyn. He ran a hand through his spiky hair saying, "Don't worry, it happens to everyone on the first time. You'll get used to it."

Joslyn's expression became sad for a moment, in the same way it had when she was regarding the face of the victim. "Is that something that you'd really want to get used to? Something so gruesome that only a small percentage of human beings are even able to bring themselves to do it?"

Greg stared at her. Obviously not knowing what to say, he crossed his arms over his AC/DC t-shirt and opened his mouth, but was spared having to answer by Grissom, who had been listening unnoticed at the doorway.

"It's not gruesome, it's science. And yes, if it means we can found out how the girl died, I think that it is something worth getting used to." All three turned to him, Sara rising.

"Good point," she said. "Have any more luck at the scene?"

"Some," he said, "Why don't you two join me in my office and we'll discuss what we have so far." Joslyn drained the last of her water and stood to leave, tossing a "Bye Greg" over her shoulder. Sara held back, gathering up the files from the autopsy. She caught the confused expression on Greg's face, realizing that he was still pondering over what Jos had said.

"Yeah, I know. She has that affect on people." She winked at him and turned gracefully on her heel, heading for Grissom's office.

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She found the two of them seated facing each other across the desk. Walking into the mad scientist's lab that was Grissom's office, she said her usual greeting to the fetal pig floating in one of the many jars lining the shelves and seated herself next to Joslyn.

"You know I hate it when you do that," he said as she sat across from him.

"I can't help it if he and I have developed a relationship," she responded demurely, tucking her hair behind her ear. He loved it when she did that.

The only sign of his amusement at her "relationship" with the formaldehyde-floating animal was a very slight twitch in the left corner of his mouth. Anyone else wouldn't have noticed it, but Sara took pride in the fact that she knew all of his little idiosyncrasies, and in this case she knew that whenever he did that he was suppressing a smile. Not feeling the need to suppress her own, she leaned over and slid the autopsy report across his desk. She sat back in her seat, the early morning sun that was beginning to shine through the blinds slicing her face into strips of color and gray, making her rich brown eyes glow. "David tells us that she was killed by blunt force trauma, but by what it's hard to say. Given her condition it was also difficult to estimate her time of death, but he says it's anywhere between 1-2 weeks ago. What'd you find?"

"I think I may have found something that will shed some light on where she was killed. I found this underneath where the oil drum was." He handed a rectangular piece of paper to Sara, who looked at it through the evidence bag and passed it on to Joslyn.

"St. Mary's Soup Kitchen, volunteers needed," she read off the pink slip of paper. "Wasn't that the soup kitchen that made the call about the body?"

"The very same," replied Grissom, "I think we ought to pay them a visit, don't you?"

"Absolutely," said Sara, excited. "I'll get the car."

She raised herself out of her chair, and turned to see David standing in the doorway. "Hey David," she said, confused. "Did you find some new evidence on the body?"

The bespectacled man rubbed a hand behind his ear nervously before answering, "Yes and no. I didn't find anything new on the body, but I was able to make a positive ID." Noting that he was clearly distressed, Sara pressed, "So soon? That was fast. Well who is she?"

"Who was she," corrected Joslyn quietly.

David began to shift from one foot to the other. "Well like I said, the veneers she had were really expensive. That kind of dental work is reserved for the extremely wealthy, so I figured I'd start out by calling all of the high-end cosmetic dentists in the area. There are only two, and they faxed me over all the X-rays of their female clients aged 20-30. It only took 10 minutes to make the match."

Sara shook her head in frustration, "So who is she David? Spit it out."

Pausing for just a moment, he blurted, "Trinity Wescott."

The color drained from Sara's face. "Trinity…" she trailed off, having to sit down, her knees weak.

"You're sure?" came Grissom's voice from behind her, stern.

"Positive."

"Okay," he answered, rubbing the bridge of his nose with two fingers. "Thank you, David."

David took that, gratefully, as his cue to leave. Joslyn, clearly bewildered at the reactions of her superiors to the victim's name, could no longer keep silent.

"Ok, so is someone going to fill me in here?"

Her head in her hands, Sara spoke in a tired voice to the floor, "You don't recognize the name?"

Slightly embarrassed that she didn't, Joslyn thought to herself for a moment, wracking her brain for some kind of connection with the name Trinity Wescott. It did sound familiar, now that she thought about it. But where had she heard it?

Taking Joslyn's silence as her answer, Sara lifted her head and made eye contact. "Maybe the name Sullivan Wescott would ring a bell?"

Joslyn's eyes widened, making the connection. "You don't….I mean this couldn't be…" She brought a hand slowly to her mouth. If this girl was who Joslyn thought she was, then this case had just become very, very messy.

"Yeah," sighed Sara. "Senator Sullivan Wescott. Trinity Wescott is the Senator's daughter."