Author's Note: I'm having difficulty with the ending to this story... you may or may not have to wait (gasp!). Considering I rarely keep you waiting long, I'm sure you can be patient. A note to fans of Slither: Its sequel, Collateral Damage is on its way and I gotta tell you... I kinda perfer it to this story, so it's been getting most of my attention. So while I've been writing (and re-writing) the ending of this story, I've also been writing the beginning of Collateral Damage, which, for you Sandle fans, will include plenty more Greg and Sara romance scenes than Slither did. This was basically a long-winded warning that you may have to wait more than a day between some chapters.

While sincerely searching for Sofia to drive her home, Catherine saw Warrick. Her eyes went wide and she tried to walk in the opposite direction, not wanting him to see her like this but as she did, she saw Greg and groaned. She turned away again, realizing she was caught between a rock and a very hard place. Greg seemed to see her too, but he didn't turn away in embarrassment like she did. On the contrary, he jogged towards her. His face was blank.

"Catherine." He spoke flatly and curtly. Strictly business.

Catherine closed her eyes and sighed. "Listen, Greg, I'm really sorry about—"

"I don't care about that right now," Greg said. "I have two things for you. First—the party's cancelled. Second, about your dead ba— I mean, the Walter infanticide."

Catherine held up a hand. "Go tell Sara," she said. "And I'm in no mood to go to any party anyway, Greg."

Greg nodded. "Yeah," he said. "No one is."

Catherine felt intensely sorry for Greg, on top of her embarrassment. "I didn't mean it like that," she said. "I just… haven't been myself lately."

"I noticed," Greg said, then seemed to grow very self-conscious. "Um, listen, Sara's mad at me about that, so I can't really talk to her, but your infanticide case, well, there's this urban legend…"

"No, Greg," Catherine interrupted. "No urban legends. Look, I have a huge headache, I am going to go home, take a bath, and just go to sleep and hope this jungle fever goes away before next shift. What time is it?"

Greg looked at his watch. " Ten o'clock."

"Fantastic," Catherine said with a sigh.

"Catherine!" She cringed at the voice, but turned around sheepishly. Warrick looked her up and down with a grin. "That's some outfit," he said.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Catherine muttered, rolling her eyes. "Warrick, could you take me home? I'm feeling kind of dizzy."

"You should tell Grissom," Warrick said. "Last time—"

"Believe me," Catherine said quickly. "He'll be glad that I didn't tell him."

"Aw, Catherine," Greg said, shaking his head. "Grissom too?"

"You shut up," Catherine snapped, but he was grinning.

"What happened with Grissom?" Warrick was obviously confused. Greg opened his mouth to reply when Catherine hit him.

"Nothing happened," she said quickly. "Take me home?"

Warrick smiled at her warmly. "Sure."

Nick was in the trace lab, talking to Hodges when Sara found him. "What are you doing?" she asked. "That's not our evidence."

Nick looked up. "Nah. It's Greg's. I told Warrick I'd take the case back from him, I think he's driving Catherine home. What's up?"

"I was wondering if you could do me a favor," Sara said.

"We're kind of busy here, Sara, if you don't mind," Hodges said.

Nick looked from Hodges then to Sara and decided to ignore him. "Shoot," he said.

"Greg and I kind of had a little tiff," she said. "And now he's cancelled the party."

Hodges muttered something but both Sara and Nick ignored it.

"Aw, Sara," said Nick. "You know he was only doing it for you."

Sara sighed. "I know. That's why I need you to help me make it up to him."

Nick smiled at her warmly. "Sure," he said. "What do you need?"

"Nick," Grissom said, entering the lab. "Brass has a suspect in custody for your Hawaiian Shirt. Have you seen Greg?"

"He went back to the crime scene," Hodges answered for Nick. "To find the gun."

Grissom nodded. "Well… this guy has the gun. He's admitting to everything. I need you to test his hands for GSR, see if his story lines up." Grissom moved to leave then paused. "Oh, and make sure he doesn't kill himself like the last guy, would you? The last thing we need is Ecklie throwing a tantrum again."

Nick laughed. "Sure thing, boss," he said as Grissom left.

"Well," said Sara. "Our cases just seem to solve themselves tonight, don't they?"

"Freaky coincidence, wouldn't you say?" Nick replied.

Sara shrugged. "Whatever, so long as it means I can leave."

"Leave… Aw, I should call Greg." Nick pulled out his phone and dialed. "He'll be pissed if he's already on his way to the crime scene."

"I think he's already pissed." Sara sounded guilty, so Nick gave her a reassuring smile as he waited for Greg to answer.

"What did you want to do again?" he asked. Sara opened her mouth to answer him, but Nick held up his hand to stop her. "Hey, Greg? Um… where are you?... Great, that's not far. Come back… The suspect came in, he has a gun… Yeah, I know, big waste of time… cancelled? That bites, man." Nick saw Sara flush a little. "Well, if you think it's for the best… Nah, don't talk like that, of course she would have appreciated it." Sara's flush deepened. "Listen, call me when you get here. I'm out." He looked at Sara. "Damn, what did you say to him?"

Sara sighed. "I caught Catherine seducing him and his shirt was unbuttoned and you should have seen the direction her mouth was going—" There was a crash and both Sara and Nick turned to Hodges, who had knocked some vials off the table. He looked up at the two CSIs sheepishly as he hopped off the chair and began to clean them up.

"Sorry…" he muttered. "Catherine was hitting on Sanders?"

Sara chuckled, seeing Hodges' obvious irritation. "Relax, Hodges, she's not herself today."

"Well obviously. I mean, Greg Sanders?" Hodges continued to mutter to himself as he picked up the glass.

"You wanted a favor?" Nick asked Sara. She smiled back at him.

"Want to tell me what's going on with you?" Warrick asked as he drove Catherine home. Ever since she'd stepped into the car she'd been very quiet. She didn't answer any of his questions, and this last one was no exception. Warrick sighed. "Look, Cath, if something's wrong, we can talk about it…" He glanced over at his friend, who stared resolutely out the window with her arms folded. She would never answer him.

Warrick opened his mouth to speak again and then decided against it. She probably wouldn't answer that question either. Things weren't well with Tina. He wanted to talk about it with her. He'd already tried talking to Nick about it, but his friend had been surprisingly unhelpful. Warrick didn't seem able to express his concerns quite right. Nick was one of Warrick's best friends, but…

"Tina is…" he searched for the words. "I think she's still messing around. I'm not home nearly enough. But there's something else… You don't mind that I'm talking to you about this do you?" Her silence meant that she wasn't protesting, so Warrick continued. "I think… well… When I come home, she smells like perfume, but not the kind she normally wears, and I found the strangest thing on her computer the other day, and I was wondering, you know, as a woman you might be able to explain it to me because I've been jumping to some very sketchy conclusions… Would you help me out?" This time, Warrick refused to take silence as an answer. "Catherine, talk to me," he said, sounding tired.

"OK," Catherine replied flatly. "What did you find?"

Warrick smiled at her answer, glad that she had been listening to him. For a while, he hadn't been too sure. "Well," he said, "this is hard to say but… they were photographs. Of… women. Naked women." This caused Catherine to look over at him and raise an eyebrow. Warrick glanced at her. "What's that, you know, mean? I mean, it's not porn, per sey, I mean no one's having sex, they're just… naked… and I know why men look at those kind of photos, but… Listen, I could only think of one answer, but I don't want to assume anything if there's some other feminine reason for the things she does because—"

"Warrick, your wife is a lesbian," Catherine interrupted curtly.

Warrick's shoulders fell and his face was the perfect portrait of confusion. "But… we love each other. Why would she…?"

"Some women don't like to admit it," Catherine said. "Just like men. There are just as many taboos. Maybe she didn't know. Maybe she didn't meet the right girl until recently. Maybe she was scared. I think she really does love you, Warrick. Don't think that she doesn't."

"Damn," Warrick said, pulling up outside of Catherine's house. "I really don't want to have that conversation."

Catherine opened the door but smiled at Warrick. "Nobody ever does," she said. "I'm sorry, Warrick."

Warrick smiled at her. "Hey," he said. "Don't you worry about it. Be sure to rest up before Greg's party today."

"Nah," Catherine waved away his concern. "Greg said the party's been cancelled."

"No way!" Warrick cried. "I thought it was a sort of surprise party, for Sara."

"It was," Catherine nodded. "I think they got in a fight and now he just doesn't feel like going through with it."

"Shame," Warrick said. "Maybe I could change his mind."

"Mm," Catherine muttered. "Have a nice day."

"You too," Warrick called after her as she closed the door and went inside her house.

Warrick was about to head home himself when his cell phone began to ring. "Brown," he answered.

"Warrick," came Nick's voice. "Listen, Sara and I need a favor of you…"

Greg punched the steering wheel hard with his hand, absolutely frustrated with the way his day was going. Which was ironic, as when he had woken up, he had been sure that it was going to be a good night. He had his party for Sara all planned out, it had started slow, and he was sure he would have been able to get off work early. How everything could change in a few hours was beyond him, and none of it was even his fault. Slowly he backed out of the parking lot he'd turned into after receiving Nick's call and headed back to the lab.

He was furious with Sara, but mostly because of how much her words had bothered him. As usual, his thoughts were saturated with her face, but this time it only made him angrier.

His cell jolted him out of his anger. "What?" he snapped angrily into the phone.

"Greg," came Grissom's voice. "Listen, I'm going to have to ask you to finish out your double shift."

Greg groaned. "Aw, Grissom, why?"

"Everyone else from graveyard already headed home, and dayshift is shorthanded. Also, you'll have to finish off your John Doe case without Nick. Sofia will try and be of some assistance, and Brass is still here too."

"But no CSIs?" Greg asked.

He could hear the smile in Grissom's voice. "Well you have me."

"Right," Greg said. "Fun. Be right there." Greg hung up and threw the phone into the passenger seat. He shook his head as he stared at the road.

He remembered the Walter case and the story he had been so eager to share with Sara until they started arguing. The case had brought echoes of familiarity to Greg, and it had taken him a few hours to place it, but when he did, it had sent shivers down his spine.

He had called it an urban legend because urban legend it was, a story that was, in all likelihood, completely fictional, but instilled fear in people because how realistic it sounded, and how disgustingly brutal its end was. The story of the disgraced teenage mother, who had an affair with an older man and when her baby was born, she killed it to hide her shame. When the father found out, he killed the mother and then killed himself.

Sara and Catherine's case had seemed to ring to true to the legend. It had been around for decades. Greg remembered first hearing it as a ghost story in middle school, with the ending being that the anguished mother was damned to wander the Earth endlessly for the punishment of her unforgivable sin. His own mother, who had always been conservative in nature, had used it as an anti-abortion fable, until Greg pointed out that killing a child after it was born was infanticide. This only caused his mother to alter the story to say that the teenage mother had gotten a bloody abortion, and was still damned to hell.

Greg sighed. He didn't much want to think about his mother or abortions. So he thought about Sara, and realized that he didn't really want to think about her either. He honked his horn in annoyance, causing a few other cars to honk back at him in reply. But as he pulled into the parking lot, Greg couldn't help but think of Sara. This was not unusual, as when Greg tended to get bored of other tangents, his thoughts had always gravitated to the cute brunette. The only difference now was that when he thought of her he felt angry and embarrassed, and maybe even a little remorseful. Maybe he had been too quick to decide against the party. She had looked guilty after he'd told her what it was for.

Sighing and slamming the door to his car, Greg reluctantly went back inside, where Grissom was waiting for him.

" Sofia is waiting for you in there with your suspect," he said. "He's handed over the gun." Grissom handed Greg the gun in an evidence bag. "Send it over to ballistics, see if it matches the bullet."

"Like you couldn't have done that," Greg muttered. He caught the shadow of a smile flicker across Grissom's face as he dragged his feet into the interrogation room. It was like Grissom was purposefully trying to keep him as busy as possible. He wondered what he had done to deserve that.

He sat himself down next to Sofia across from the suspect and slouched in his chair as she began the questioning.

Warrick made his way over to Sara's apartment, checking his watch. One o'clock. Sara and Nick were really cutting into his sleep time. This better be worth it, he thought. Of course, the alternative was going home to see Tina, and have that very awkward discussion with her, and he wanted to put that off for as long as possible. His thoughts drifted over to Catherine as he wondered what was wrong with her. The others had told him to let her rest, but he'd offered to go and get her before everything went down.

After parking the car, Warrick walked up to the building and leaned against the wall as he hit the buzzer. Without even the flicker of conversation over the intercom, the door unlocked, and Warrick headed upstairs toward Sara's apartment.

The door was open, and he could clearly see Nick on a step ladder hanging a banner. "Hey, man," he said. "I brought liquor. Where do you want it?"

"In the kitchen," Nick said. "But keep it away from Sara or she's likely to start this thing a little early." He grinned and Warrick chuckled.

At that very moment, Sara walked in from the kitchen and caught Warrick off guard. "OK," he said. "Look, I just dropped off Catherine who was dressed weird enough, but… didn't you say you don't do bikinis?"

Sara, clad in a white bikini top and cutoffs and a flower lei around her neck, cocked an eyebrow at him. "Greg wanted an island themed party. I blew it, so I'm making it up to him."

"Yeah," said Nick with a lopsided grin. "That'll make it up to him alright." Sara knocked the ladder and Nick wobbled a moment before glaring down at her. "You did that on purpose."

"You'll never prove it," she cooed.

"Warrick!" Nick called. "Get my kit, I want to call her bluff."

"Even off hours, we have to say something about work," Warrick said, rolling his eyes.

"Make yourself useful," Sara said, throwing a lei over Warrick's head. "Go set up the tiki torches."

"But we're inside," Warrick pointed out.

"It's called atmosphere, man!" Nick said, putting the last piece of tape on the banner. "There! All done." He stepped down off the ladder and looked up at it with pride before his face fell. The others saw it too.

"That's, um, great Nick, but—"

"Is that atmosphere?" Warrick asked casually. "I mean, it's certainly creative, having the whole thing upside down." He turned to Sara. "How does that relate to the island theme, exactly?"

Sara giggled and Nick glared at both of them before mounting the step ladder once again. Sara turned to Warrick. "You. Tiki torches. Go."

"Yes ma'am," Warrick said as Sara shoved a bunch of them into his arms. As he went off to do Sara's bidding, he glanced back at the two of them every now and then, bantering like brother and sister. She'd hit him on the leg and he'd throw a marker at her. Both of them were doing this for Greg, but both had different intentions in the long run. He was far too intuitive to misread Sara's subconscious motives, even if she wasn't so sure of them herself yet. Nick was doing it for Greg because he was Nick's adopted younger brother, but Sara was doing it for more than an apology. She wanted to impress him. But united in their quest to please their good friend, they realized their own good friendship with each other and it made Warrick smile.

They really were close, all of them. One big happy family.

His thoughts drifted to Catherine again, his concern building steadily. Even in the car, though she spoke coherently, she didn't seem all there. She didn't look like she was coming down with a fever, but that didn't mean anything. She could be writhing in her bed, going into convulsions as they were preparing for a party. He shuddered at the thought.

"Hey you guys, I'm gonna go check on Catherine," he called.

Sara looked at him as a Cheeto hit the side of her head. She turned to glare at Nick, who was now setting up the food table and acting innocent. She turned back to Warrick. "Catherine? Why? She needs rest, and Greg's not due to arrive for a good hour or so."

"Yeah, I know," Warrick said. "I'm worried about her is all."

A crooked smile weaseled its way onto Sara's features. "Aw, isn't that sweet? You're just mad that you're the only guy she didn't try and rape."

"Yeah, well—" Warrick did a double take. "Wait, what?" His eyes flew to Nick, who seemed to be frantically rearranging the pop bottles on the table, avoiding the conversation.

Sara glanced at Nick then back to Warrick. "She didn't tell you?"

"That she… what?" Warrick still couldn't comprehend.

Sara looked like she was fighting to restrain fits of giggles. "Never mind, Warrick, forget I said anything."

"No," Warrick insisted. "Now you have me confused, see."

"It was nothing," Sara assured him. "Catherine… I don't know, something she ate or something, anyway, she just kinda hit on Nick and Greg… and Grissom… and… well… It wasn't anything, really." Nick snorted and they both looked at him. "Was it, Nick? Or would you care to explain why you showed up to an island themed party wearing a turtleneck?"

Nick coughed and turned around to face Warrick for the first time in the conversation. "She's right, absolutely harmless flirting."

"Why are you wearing a turtleneck, Nick?" Warrick asked.

There was an awkward pause when the buzzer went and Sara leant against the button, letting whoever was at the door in.

Nick scratched his neck. "Sara, I'm gonna go make myself a White Russian, you want something?"

"Daiquiri," Sara called as he made his way quickly to the kitchen. She grinned at Warrick. "Relax, Warrick. Don't be jealous. Greg was the one who got a real show."

Warrick looked furious. "Jealous, I'm not—Greg? Wait, I'm— Greg?!"

"That's what I said!" Sara said, throwing her arms up as though she'd found the only person in the world who agreed with her.

"Hey."

Sara and Warrick looked at the door to see Sofia grinning at them as she held up a wheel. "Where should I put this?"

"Bedroom," Sara said. She gestured down the hall and Sofia nodded.

"What's that for, pin the wheel on the car?" Warrick asked.

Sara grinned at him wickedly. "You'll see."

Warrick's phone began to ring. He took out his phone and looked at it. Frowning, he answered. "Hey, Cath, what's up?"

"Warrick, when does our Lindsey get home by school? She should have been back by now."

His brow furrowed as he looked at his watch. "Uh, Cath, it's only two o'clock, she oughta be home at about three."

" Three o'clock. OK. Good." Catherine sounded like Warrick had placated some intense worry.

"Um… did you say our Lindsey?"

"What?" she said, absently. "Oh. Yes."

"You did?" Warrick asked.

"Did I?"

"OK…" he said. "Well, listen, Greg's party starts in an hour, so I'm gonna come over and pick you up now, OK?"

"OK," said Catherine. "But I have to wait for Lindsey."

"Catherine," Warrick said. "Lindsey will be there when you get back—"

"You don't understand, Warrick," Catherine snapped. "I have—I have to do this. You're a man. You would never understand."

"Female troubles?" Warrick said. "Because remember that I'm married— to a lesbian no less, so…" Sara was looking at him funny and he rolled his eyes. "Do you want to talk to Sara, would that make you more comfortable?"

"Hell no I won't talk to her," Catherine hissed in disgust.

"OK… No Sara. Right. Catherine, don't go anywhere, don't do anything, and for God's sake don't give anyone anymore hickeys, I'm on my way over." Hanging up, he noticed Sara giving him a wry look.

"A lesbian?"

"Shut up," Warrick said, putting his phone away as Sofia joined them again, sans the wheel. "Listen, Catherine doesn't sound like herself. I may be late. Tell Greg an extra 'surprise' from me. I'll catch you later."

He left and Nick came out of the kitchen holding two cocktail glasses. "You lovely ladies care for some margaritas?"

"I thought I said a daiquiri!" Sara protested, taking the proffered drink nonetheless.

Nick shrugged as he sipped his White Russian. "Warrick forgot the rum."

"You can't forget rum," Sofia said. "Rum is the most integral part of the daiquiri."

Sara growled in frustration. "I wish I still kept alcohol in my liquor cabinet."

"What's in it now?" Sofia asked.

"Exercise magazines," Sara said flatly, and they laughed.