Hey, guys! Here's chapter 8. Thanks to all of you who have taken the time to review. I really do appreciate it, and it does help to get the chapters out quicker.

Again, this isn't beta'd. I'm trying my best to edit and all on my own, and I can only hope that I catch all my errors. Nevertheless, enjoy!

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Catherine stared bleakly at her computer screen as she typed up the last few sentences of her current report. She briefly wondered how Nick, Riley, and Ray were doing at their crime scene. It was an incredibly slow night, and the only case they had at the moment was a triple murder-suicide, which she had assigned the trio to. Hodges was running traces in the lab, and Greg was working on evidence that had been collected at his latest scene.

Catherine glanced at the time on the corner of her computer, sighing when she saw that it was only one o'clock in the morning. Her shift was only one-eighth of the way through, and she was already tired. Not only that, but she had a court appearance at 9:00 AM in order to testify against James Cena, something that she was not looking forward to in the least.

Her office phone rang, and she picked it up. "Willows," she answered tiredly.

"You sound exhausted."

Catherine smiled to herself, leaning back in her chair as Grissom's voice filled her ear. "I'm never exhausted," Catherine answered back silkily.

Grissom voice was dry as he responded, "Uh huh, and I'm Santa Claus!"

"Well, you do have the beard…"

Grissom laughed, then asked seriously, "How are you, Catherine?"

"I'm doing okay, Gil. What's up?" Catherine answered, pulling her glasses off and setting them on her desk.

"Well…Sara hadn't heard from you in a few days and wondered what was going on," Gil said carefully.

"Translation: Sara's having a cow because of the fact that I haven't had a chance to get back to David's Bridal to try on the bridesmaid's dresses that they picked out," Catherine replied.

"Well, yes," Grissom admitted. "I personally think she's being silly-"

"No, Gil, it's my fault," Catherine interrupted. "I should have made some time to go to the bridal shop. I've just been really busy lately, and it keeps slipping my mind."

"Been busy?"

Catherine wanted to smile at the wistful tone in Grissom's voice. While she knew that he was happy to be gone from the hectic lifestyle, she knew that Gil did miss the mystery if the job somewhat. "Yeah, I have," Catherine admitted. "I have four solo open cases, and three partnered open cases. Not only that, but I have court dates today and Thursday. So yeah, I've been busy."

"What time is court tomorrow?" Gil asked warily.

"I'm scheduled to testify at 9:00," Catherine replied. "Why, what's up?"

"Well, I was calling because Sara wanted me to see if you wanted to go to breakfast with us and then go to the bridal store to try on the dress real quick," Gil told her. "But you're busy…"

"No, it's okay, Gil," Catherine said when she heard him trail off. "I'm hoping that I'm not on the stand for too long, so could we bump it back to lunch and then go to the bridal shop?" She felt bad; after all, she had been neglecting her duties as a bridesmaid thus far, and she knew that it pissed off Sara…and probably Elizabeth as well.

"You don't have to, Cath; I mean, I know how long of a day it can be when you have to work and then go to court. I don't want to hold you up from sleeping, because I know that you probably aren't getting enough as it is," Gil replied.

Catherine laughed dryly, then answered, "I'm sleeping fine, thank you."

Gil snorted, then asked, "What time did you go to bed yesterday?"

"Gil, what does this have to-"

"What time, Cath?"

She sighed, then replied, "Three."

"Mm hmm. And you woke up at…?"

Annoyed, Catherine answered, "Seven."

"Four hours, huh? Does that constitute as 'enough sleep' to you?"

"No, not really," Catherine responded. "But what the hell do you want me to do, Gil? A lack of sleep is something that is expected of the supervisor. It's part of my leadership among this group. It's something that you went through, and it's something that I will go through until I leave the lab. And besides, you can't talk," Catherine pointed out. "What are you still doing up? It's one in the morning. Don't normal people with normal jobs sleep at this time?"

Grissom chuckled, then asked, "Since when have I been normal?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?" Catherine asked. "And don't ignore my question!"

Grissom couldn't help but laugh. "I guess that I'm still on CSI time," he admitted.

"What time do you sleep?" Catherine asked.

"From about 3 AM until 8 AM, usually," Gil replied.

"Oh, five hours," Catherine scoffed. "Like that's a good amount of sleep! At least I have a reason for being an insomniac!"

"Oh, okay, you sure have me there!" Gil replied sarcastically, though his voice held a tinge of laughter. "I'm not the one who works about sixty-five to seventy hours a week, Ms. Workaholic!"

Catherine opened her mouth to retort, only to have the ringing of her cell phone on the desk interrupt her. She glanced at it, seeing Jim's name appearing on her ID. "Hang on, Gil, Brass is calling me," Catherine told him. Setting the phone down, she flipped open her cell phone. "Yeah, Brass?" she asked.

"Hey, Cath," Brass greeted her. "I need someone out to the Bellagio."

"What happened?" Catherine asked, scribbling down the name of the hotel on a notepad.

"We have a dead body," Brass told her. "Female."

"Where in the hotel are you?" Catherine asked.

"Room 1008," Brass answered.

"Okay, I'm on my way," Catherine said.

"ETA?"

"About twenty minutes or so," Catherine replied. "See you soon."

She hung up the phone, picking up her office phone as she began shutting her computer down. "Hey, Gil," she began as she saved the report she was so close to finishing.

"You have to go?" he asked somewhat sympathetically.

"I…yeah," Catherine answered. "Should I call you after court?"

"Look, Cath…you don't have to go to the bridal shop today," Gil said hastily. "I didn't realize that you were going to be in court…"

"It's fine, Gil," Catherine said with a laugh, opening her desk drawer and grabbing her keys. "Look, I'll give you a call when I'm done, okay?"

"Okay," Gil said skeptically. "Good luck with the case."

"Thanks, Gil. I'll see you soon."

"Bye, Catherine."

Catherine hung up the office phone, clipping her cell phone to her waist band at the same time. She made sure that her CSI badge was on her belt, and then grabbed her kit and camera. Catherine made her way from her office, poking her head into the evidence room that Greg was occupying. "Hey, Greggo," she called. Greg looked up at her, and she continued, "I caught a case at the Bellagio. Give me a call if you need anything?"

"Sure," Greg answered absently, turning his attention back to the photographs that were spread out on the table.

Catherine smiled to herself as she left the building. It had been about a month and a half since Greg and Hodges's suspensions, and she had to hand it to Greg; the former 'lab rat' was working harder than ever, and was determined to be one of the best crime scene investigators that he could be for Catherine. If anyone rivaled Catherine's long, dedicated hours, it was Greg. There were days when Greg left shortly before Catherine, and then there were times when Catherine was shuffling out of the office and Greg was still going over evidence. It was a huge change from the Greg that Catherine had first met nine years ago, the same Greg that had been caught by Catherine and Grissom rocking out to Marilyn Manson's 'Fight Song' in the lab.

Catherine made her way out of the building, her eyes instinctively sweeping over the parking lot. It was something that she had done for several years now, way before Sara had been kidnapped by Natalie Davis. In fact, it all started when she had been attacked herself…

Catherine walked through the house, dusting various surfaces in hopes of finding fingerprints that would connect her to the killer of the man who was laying in a pool of his own blood just feet away. She moved to a screen, glancing down at her fingertips, flicking some of the powder off her fingers.

Something wasn't right…

Catherine looked up, letting out a small grunt mixed with a slight scream when the door burst open, a man forcing himself against her. He pushed against her, and Catherine let go of the fingerprint powder instinctively, fighting back as hard as she could. Nevertheless, the larger man forced her into the wall, his arm snaking up in front of her chest in an obvious attempt to choke her.

"Suspect on location!" Catherine yelled. "Suspect on location!" Her voice was filled with panic and determination, her survival skills automatically kicking in, giving her the will to fight back. She instinctively brought her elbow backwards as hard as she could, feeling a slight glimmer of hope and pride as she felt her elbow strike the man in the face.

She struggled to turn, her hand automatically coming up to block the hand that she saw coming toward her face. Catherine grappled with the man for a few long seconds, only to fall backwards with a cry when she felt his fist connect with the top of her head.

She fell on her side, preparing herself for a further onslaught; instead, the man took off, and it took Catherine a second to realize why. "He went out back," Catherine breathlessly said with a soft moan to the officers who had ran back in the room when they heard her frantic shout moments ago. "He went out back," she repeated, more so to assure herself that she was okay.

"Cath, are you all right?!" she heard Warrick's frantic tone before she saw him, glancing up as she felt his hand land on her lower back.

Catherine glanced up at her colleague, finally meeting his worried gaze. "I'm all right," she answered, her voice soft and shaky.

She watched as Warrick took off, Catherine finally realizing where she had landed after the suspect struck her. Catherine glanced at the body that was in such close proximity to hers, slowly sitting up as she examined the blood that covered her pants and shirt. Dazed, she looked up at her surroundings, feeling blood trickling down her forehead. She briefly wondered how bad the wound was, only to have her focus turned back to Warrick and Officer Akers, who had reentered the house.

"He must have gotten out the back," Catherine heard Warrick say. She watched as Warrick appeared thoughtful, then rounded on Officer Akers. "Were you the first officer on scene?" he asked angrily. At Akers' nod, Warrick berated, "When you clear a place, you clear it, do you understand?!" Akers began to stammer an apology, only to have Warrick cut him off. "We lost a CSI two years ago because of the same mistake!"

Catherine knew that Warrick was livid, but she couldn't allow him to continue his tirade. "Warrick, ease up," she finally spoke up. "My fault. I sent him out."

Catherine's soothing tones appeared to have the desired effect on Warrick. With an angry order to call for backup, he turned to Catherine, his attention on his colleague and friend. "Hey," he said softly.

"Hey," Catherine answered, a little weepy as the magnitude of the incident weighed down on her.

"You okay?" Warrick asked sympathetically, eyeing the impressive abrasion on her forehead.

"Yeah, I'm all right." They both knew it was a lie: that Catherine was injured and frightened, but Warrick didn't push. Instead, he reached a hand up, his fingers looking to brush her hair away from her face so that Warrick could get a better look at her head. His hand stilled when Catherine spoke up. "Don't touch me," she said sharply. Seeing Warrick's confused and somewhat hurt look, she gestured to her blood spattered clothing and hands and continued, "I'm evidence."

Catherine sighed, her hands shaking slightly as she opened the trunk of her Tahoe, throwing her kit in the backseat as she remembered the attack. Her fingers found the slight scar on her forehead, and for a moment, Catherine feared that she was going to cry. As hardened as she was, the attack had left her skittish for several months and there were still times when she froze up even six years later, afraid that someone was going to burst from behind a screen or a door or a tree and attack her. Catherine could almost feel Warrick's presence next to her, his hand on her back as he made sure that she was okay.

Slamming the trunk lid, Catherine placed a hand against the cool glass, tilting her head toward the skies. "I miss you, Warrick," she said softly, sniffling as she felt a tear trickle down her cheek.

"Hey," Catherine heard a voice call, and she jumped. She whirled around, hastily wiping her eyes as she saw Ray making his way over to her. "You okay?" Ray asked, seeing her red eyes.

"I…yeah…just allergies," Catherine explained lamely, adding a sniffle for effect before changing the subject to get the focus off her. "How'd your case go?"

"It's…quite the case," Ray said with a shake of his head. "It's going to take a lot of work to sort through the evidence."

Catherine smiled briefly at Ray. "Well, you have plenty of time left in your shift to sort through the evidence," she told her newest CSI.

"Where are you off to?" Ray asked.

"Bellagio. There was a murder," Catherine told him.

"You need a hand?" Ray offered, eager to assist in any way possible.

"I appreciate the offer," Catherine answered. "It's just one body, though. I'm going to go solo on this one. Thank you, though."

Ray nodded then said, "You're welcome. I'll see you soon, right?"

"Of course," Catherine answered with a wink. With a wave to Riley and Nick, she pulled herself up into the Tahoe, and took off to her crime scene.

~/~

"You're late," Brass informed Catherine as she made her way to the hotel room, ducking under the crime scene tape after flashing her badge at the officer guarding the scene.

With a sniff, she glanced at her watch. "Five minutes," she scoffed.

"You're still late," Brass said with a shrug.

Catherine rolled her eyes, shifting her heavy bag so that it wasn't pressing directly down on her shoulder. "Are you going to lecture me about punctuality or are you going to show me to the body?" Catherine asked, unable to keep the annoyed tone out of her voice momentarily.

Brass raised an eyebrow at her tone, choosing not to comment any further. "She's in here," Brass said, leading Catherine into the bathroom of the hotel.

Catherine stared down at the body, momentarily stunned. Her hands shook as she took in the sight before her. The victim looked almost exactly like Jane Smelders, and her arms were positioned in nearly the same way that James Cena's victim was. "Jim," Catherine managed to call as she backed out of the bathroom. "Jim!"

"What, what's wrong?!" Brass asked, alarmed as he made his way back to Catherine. "Catherine, talk to me!" he ordered, his hands on her shoulders as she fought down the panic attack that was threatening to surface.

"I…you need to call the prison where James Cena is," Catherine stammered. "She…she looks just like Jane Smelders, and that's the way her body was positioned. I…I think that Cena did this!"

Jim glanced from the body to Catherine's ashen face, pulling out his cell phone without a second thought. Catherine exited the room, moving to the stuffy hallway in an attempt to regain her bearings. She took a deep breath, placing her hands on her knees in order to try to fight the threatening nausea down.

Several minutes later, Jim exited the hotel room, making his way over to Catherine. "James Cena is in his cell, sleeping, and hasn't left the prison for the last six weeks," Brass informed Catherine without preamble.

"What…what about an…an accomplice?" Catherine stammered. She stood up straight even though her knees were threatening to give out at any moment.

"Cena hasn't been in contact with anyone except for his lawyer for over a month," Jim told Catherine.

She blinked slowly, her gaze not meeting Jim's. "I…I know that this is a message for me," Catherine told Brass. "I know that that body was meant for me!"

"Catherine…" Brass trailed off with a sigh, unsure of what to say.

"Damn it, Brass, I'm going to testify against Cena in about seven hours. You can't tell me that this isn't a message for me!" Catherine exclaimed.

"Catherine…it's probably just a coincidence," Brass told her. "You're under a lot of stress at the moment, and you're probably looking into this more than nec-"

Catherine cut him off. "I am not looking into this more than necessary!" she hissed angrily. "Damn it, Brass, she looks EXACTLY like Cena's victim! She's positioned in the SAME way! The only thing missing is her wallet laying next to her with a print on it!"

Brass blinked, placing two fingers against his temple as he spoke, "Willows, I called Stokes."

Catherine was slightly taken aback at his statement, but she covered it up as she angrily asked, "You did WHAT?"

"I called Stokes and told him to come to the scene," Brass told her evenly.

"Why?!" Catherine asked.

"Because when I saw your face when you saw that victim, I knew that you wouldn't be able to remain objective over this!" Brass snapped. "You're mind is solely on James Cena at the moment, and I know that you aren't going to be focused on her!" he added, jabbing his thumb back towards the hotel room. "Don't make me call Ecklie over this!"

Catherine stared dumbfounded at Brass, shocked that he would actually go over her head. "You son of a bitch," Catherine growled. "How dare you!"

Brass swallowed, his anger leaving him temporarily as he caught the hurt look in Catherine's eyes. "Catherine…I'm doing this for you-" he started, only to be cut off by Catherine again.

"You're not doing this for me, so cut the bullshit, Brass," Catherine snarled. "You're only watching out for yourself!"

With that, Catherine turned on her heel, her bag bumping against her leg as she angrily ducked under the crime scene tape, leaving the crime scene in a huff.

~/~

Catherine sat in her Tahoe, overlooking the city from a hill that she had parked atop about an hour ago. It never ceased to amaze her that the city always seemed to be awake, the lights making swirling patterns that were almost hypnotizing while the noise had faded.

She and Lindsay had discovered this spot a few years back, and it seemed to be one of the best places to go if one needed to think. In fact, she had even shared the spot with Gil a few years back when Sara had left him the first time. She knew that he had come here for hours on end, trying to figure why the love of his life would have left him.

Thinking, thinking…Yup, that's what I'm doing.

She had had the presence of mind to at least call in to dispatch to let them know that she would be out of the office and to call her if they needed her, but so far, nothing. Sighing, she lay her head against the steering wheel, closing her eyes briefly.

What the hell am I doing here?

And 'here' wasn't even on top of some random hill in the desert in the wee hours of the morning…'Here' was this point in her life. She was almost fifty years old, alone, and about to lose the one person who she knew loved her…to a college across the United States. The only thing she had at the moment was her job, and that seemed to be falling apart. While she could understand Jim's concern, how dare he pull her off a case? He wasn't her boss. He had no control over her.

With a sigh, Catherine wondered if it was even worth it to be brooding. She had tons of paperwork to catch up on, as well as her own cases to deal with. She wondered if it was even worth it. No matter how much she struggled to keep up with her cases and paperwork and supervisor duties, it never seemed to be enough.

Was it even worth it?

For a brief moment, she considered calling Ecklie and telling him that she was finished, that she was done fighting crime for the state of Nevada. The thought lingered, but then she thought to Gil…

Would he approve of that? Would he approve of her quitting and leaving Ray, Riley, Greg, Nicky, and Hodges to fend for themselves without a leader?

No.

Catherine sighed and rolled her neck…

…And promptly screamed when she saw a face looking through her window at her, a hand raised to tap on the glass.

To his credit, Grissom managed to keep calm despite the fact Catherine's scream had startled him. Catherine closed her eyes briefly, willing away the headache as she pressed the button to roll down her window. "What are you doing here?" she asked Gil.

"I heard that the view of Vegas is great from here," Gil told her lamely.

"So which one called you? Nicky or Brass?" Catherine questioned him after a few moments of uncomfortable silence.

"Nicky." Grissom couldn't lie.

"How'd you know that I would be here?"

"I just…I knew, Cath. You told me years ago about this spot, and somehow I knew that you'd be here."

Catherine nodded, sighing as she turned her attention back to the lights in front of her. "Why would Brass take me off a case? Can he even do that?" she asked Gil.

"I…I don't know, Catherine," Gil admitted. "I think that he's worried about you."

"Why?" Catherine asked, confused.

"Cath…" Gil trailed off, unsure of how to continue. "They all worry about you. I do, too."

Catherine brought her eyes to his face, the dark light casting a shadow over his face. She let out a puff of air, moving to open her door. Gil stepped back, giving her space to open the door as Catherine slid out of her seat. She shut the door and walked to the front of the car, leaning against the hood, not looking at Gil as he mimicked her actions. "Why do you worry about me?" she finally asked.

Grissom searched her face, noting the tired lines that formed at her eyes, the slight bags that formed. "I worry about everyone in that office," Grissom finally stated. "It's a hard job that takes its toll on you. I mean, look at Sara…" Catherine scowled at the mention of his fiancé, but nevertheless, Gil continued, "She couldn't do it anymore. I don't want you to get to that point…or even the point that I was at, Cath."

"Gil, you're the strongest person I know-" Catherine started to say, only to be cut off by Gil.

"This isn't about me, Cath," he pointed out gently. "I can't help that I care about you, and that I don't want to see you get hurt."

Catherine smiled weakly at Gil. "I'm fine," she told him. "It's a hectic lifestyle, but I think that I'm so used to the lack of sleep and everything that it doesn't bother me anymore. I mean…I appreciate the concern and all, but…I'm fine, Gil."

But am I?

Grissom looked as if he wanted to challenge Catherine, but instead, he stood there quietly, watching his friend as she refused to meet his eyes, choosing instead to continue to keep her gaze steady on the city below. Hesitantly, he reached an arm around Catherine, resting his hand on her shoulder as he pulled her closer to him.

That was all it took for the dam to break, and Catherine sniffled as she buried her face into Gil's chest, crying softly as she felt Gil wrap his arms around her. She stayed there for several long minutes, simply taking in his scent and comforting motions of his hand rubbing her back before pulling away, her eyes red rimmed as she met his.

Gil kept his arm around her shoulder, meeting her gaze with concern and worry. Catherine accepted the silent invitation to rest her head on his chest, lying her head down as she closed her eyes, attempting to regain her bearings. "Are you going to tell me what's really wrong, Catherine?" Gil asked softly.

"I don't know what you mean, Gil," Catherine answered hoarsely.

"Hey…" Gil squeezed her shoulder gently. "I know you, Cath, and I know that you wouldn't do something purposely to get yourself taken off a case. What happened back there with Jim?"

Catherine sighed, moving her head from Gil's shoulder. She scuffed her toes against the dirt road. Finally, she spoke up. "The dead body I was looking at looked exactly like the victim of the suspect I am testifying against today. Not only that, she was positioned in the same way…"

"Did you have Brass find out where this murderer was?" Grissom's tone was obviously concerned, but, like always, he looked at the whole picture.

"Well, yes," Catherine admitted. "He's in lock up and hasn't had any contact with anyone except his lawyer. But I know he had something to do with it." She could feel Grissom looking at her, and she rolled her eyes, glaring at him when she sensed his skepticism. She shrugged his arm off her shoulder and spat, "I know that it's a message for me Gil, to not testify against him!"

"Cath…how can a man in prison who hasn't had any contact with the outside world kill someone and then position their body?" Gil questioned. "Do you remember what I've taught you? Follow-"

"-the evidence. Yeah, I know, Gil," Catherine finished crabbily. "It just seems too convenient that it happened the night before I'm supposed to testify against Cena."

Grissom nodded, cautiously wrapping an arm around Catherine again, relieved when she didn't pull away. She laid her head on his shoulder again, closing her eyes. "It'll be okay, Cath," Gil soothed softly.

Catherine sniffled, hating that the tears so easily welled up in her eyes again. She brushed a hand across her eyes, willing the tears away. "Gil…" she started, only to stop her train of thought.

"What's up, Cath?" Gil prodded gently, resting his head on top of hers. She shivered slightly, and Gil wrapped his other arm around her in an attempt to keep her warm in the chilly air.

"Would you…" she paused, thinking of how to word her request. "Would you mind coming to court in the morning?" she finally continued. "I don't…I don't want to face him alone."

Gil was surprised at her request, but nevertheless he kept in his shock. "Of course not, Catherine," he replied. "I'd be happy to."

"I just…" she sighed. "I just need someone there for me."

"I can understand that," Grissom said, squeezing her shoulder again. "I'll tell you what: I'll have Sara come with me, and after you get done we can do lunch and the bridal shop thing. How does that sound?"

Catherine nodded, closing her eyes briefly. She felt somewhat better knowing that Gil…and Sara…would be there to support her.

However, she still had a nagging feeling that something was going to go wrong.

~/~

End Part 8/?

I have a quick question…the flashbacks to actual episodes aren't distracting you or taking away from the flow of the story, are they? I think that I only have one or two more planned throughout the story, but let me know!