Enjoy my lovelies...I thought I would write an extra long chapter to make up for my leaving you for ten days... I needed a place for the head to go...sorry that wasn't too creative. Also, I hope that you know who Brutus and Cassius are. Rod Serling is the host of the show The Twilight Zone.

Disclaimer: still in effect.

"Truth is a whisper and only a choice…Sometimes you choke on the smell"

-Goo Goo Dolls-

Peyton shifted around on her haunches. The muscles in her thighs and calves flared in protest from being hunched over in one position for so long, but she ignored them. One gloved hand held onto the side of the trunk, keeping her balance, while the other stretched to reach her camera atop her kit. Her silver kit. Roughly a few feet from every dimension, it was sturdy and dependable. This one had seen ten years of action with her. It had served her faithfully and she in turn kept it looking brand new. A CSI's kit was vital. It was part of their everyday make up and if they forgot it, they were pretty much worthless. True, the kits held nothing that would be used to analyze the crime scene, but it was still important. The brushes, inks, powders, chemicals, droppers, tweezers, files, and containers were all used to collect the evidence. Without collecting it, no one could process it back at the lab. It was very important to always have their kit. The shortness of her arms made the reach difficult as her fingers fumbled for a moment, her eyes never leaving what was in the trunk, and finally closed over the strap.

The smell didn't bother her and neither did the sight. Unlike others she worked with- Kathryn and Titus who remained on the dock observing- Peyton had no qualms about dead bodies and their decaying putrid flesh. She'd never had a problem with it. At Yale, she had been the only one in their anatomy class that hadn't gotten sick at the sight of the cadavers. It simply didn't faze her; anyone could eventually get used to it and those with a strong enough mind and stomach could learn to block the assault on their sense.

As she viewed the victim through the camera lens, making sure to snap the shots at the correct angles from the ground, Peyton reminisced on how much she loved her job. It was an odd thing really, and had she voiced it out loud, anyone would have thought her mentally disturbed and slightly psychotic. Even she admitted it was disturbing. She loved the way the color of skin changed after death, tingeing shades of blue and purple as blood pooled, and then fading to yellow and green. How fingerprints were like snowflakes, no two alike. How she could recreate a crime scene with a laser and a few tripods and trace the trajectory of a bullet. How with a few presses of a button she could separate someone's blood and tell what was in it. And she loved the victim that lay in the steel trunk in front of her.

She didn't love the fact that whoever was in the box had died. She deeply regretted the loss of life. No, she loved the fact that this was a new case, a new mystery, something for her to ponder. This body would prove to be a challenge, of that she was certain. Already, by just looking at it, questions were filtering through her mind, her internal guide sorting them into their appropriate categories.

She sat the camera aside. The body was too obscured to make out much of anything. The thick layer blocked the true 'body' from sight. The camera and any other shots, besides those of simple procedure, would be pointless until the body was cleaned. It would have to wait until it was on the table and the Medical Examiner was done with her findings.

The boat rocked as another CSI from the lab stepped on. Catching herself from the sudden motion and saving herself from falling in what would be a most embarrassing sight, she waved him off. She wouldn't need him. She could process it herself and was loathe to move from her spot. The body was hers. Her problem. Her puzzle to figure out. Hers. From her peripheral vision, she noticed the other team leader join Kathryn and Titus on the dock. The body commanded her attention again. He could talk with them and if he wanted her he could come over here and get her. That was if he could stand it. She grinned evilly and pondered at how mad the M.E. would be if she reached in and touched it. The fisherman had already moved the body once. After finding it in his net, he had admitted to moving it back into the trunk. She couldn't hurt it too much more.

"She's gonna do it."

"No, she's not."

"Yes, she is."

"No, she's not!" Kathryn snorted. She glanced back over at the hunched form of her friend. "Five minutes tops."

"Nah. I give her three. You know how she gets about cases like this one." Titus shot back with a sardonic grin on his face as he bet alongside with her.

"Hey." They both turned at his greeting, their conversation cut short, Titus waving and Kathryn smiling as Don walked down the dock, joining them. "Ms. Nost. Mr. Hatchett…"

"Please, Agent Eppes. Dispense with the formalities. It's just Kathryn and Titus. We're all friends here now."

Don nodded. "Then it's just Don now. So what do we have here? Megan's explanation was a little cryptic over the phone. Said the fisherman found a body in his net."

Kathryn briefly filled him in as Titus was too busy watching the boat. "Anything I leave out, Titus? You were over there longer than me."

Don wondered if the man was ignoring her or if he just simply hadn't heard her. He was enlightened a minute later as the man pointed and laughed. "I win. There she goes."

The agent turned to the boat, their crime scene for the moment. The toxicologist expert had told him that the fisherman had caught the trunk in a net, along with the body, and brought them both onto the deck. According to Kathryn, the fisherman had moved the body back into the trunk, not thinking clearly and believing that he could avoid suspicion if he claimed that he had found it in the trunk. Kathryn had already reprimanded the man. Better it came from her than Dr. Huntzberger.

From his position on the dock Don could see Peyton and the steel trunk, but he couldn't see over the railing and to what lay inside it. He watched confused and wondering why the doctor was wearing a black jumpsuit and had her arm cocked at an angle over the trunk. A moment later and she answered his question. With only the smallest amount of hesitation, she plunged her arm downward.

Kathryn gasped and jumped back, forgetting that she wasn't there. It could have been a trick of the sun's reflection off of the water, but he thought he saw something green rise up and then fall from the addition of her limb.

"Told you so." Titus groaned and then yelled at his boss on the boat in his thick southern accent. "Peyton that's gross. The M.E.'s gonna kill you. Be careful not to mess around too much in there or the D.A. will kill you next."

He was at a loss. Kathryn and Titus were disturbed by her actions, not surprised that she had done it, but rather disgusted at what she had touched. Don hadn't seen it yet, so he couldn't judge what she was doing. He didn't believe she would purposely contaminate the crime scene. That was something that would be completely out of her straight forward, organized, domineering character. Completely un-Huntzberger like. She had turned into a down right bitch when Colby had questioned her and gotten in the way of the missing Keslow case.

But the doctor didn't pause in her actions, nor did she tear her eyes away to address them. "What? It's just putrefaction, with a body that's been exposed to massive quantities of water and chemicals unique to the sea water in this bay. Don't be so ridiculous. I thought we had gotten over this whole problem with mutilated flesh, guys. I mean seriously." Her voice was lost over the cacophony of the wind and the waves. Her lips continued to move as she muttered to herself and then called out, "Would you please care to join me, Agent Eppes?"

It was poised as a question, but still had that underlying tone of a command. Still she had said please, which was a step forward from their first day. He let it drop, sighed at the encouraging smiles from the other two scientists, and boarded the boat, steeling his mind and his stomach.

With heavy steps, Don approached his newest doctor and what she had clearly claimed as her body. She was guarding it as if it was a mound of treasure and she was some great fire breathing dragon. 'She could be a dragon.' he thought. The deck was clean; the captain obviously cared about it. The boat was not that large, in fact it was a small type of craft. There were coils of rope in one corner and over there were the pulleys for the nets. And there was her 'treasure'. An overly large steel trunk rested to one side, lid exposed, and latch undone. It was steel and reminded him of the cases that airliners used.

"You've been forewarned." She shifted around again, giving him more room.

He instantly wished that she hadn't as the stench from the body suddenly invaded his senses. Bile rose in his throat and he hastily swallowed it. His eyes watered and he tugged his jacket sleeve over his nose and averted his eyes. It didn't do much for the smell, it still managed to assault him and he reckoned that he would smell it for days. The smell was simply horrific. He took that back. The smell was terrible, the sight was horrific. It could be worse though; had it been any hotter outside, the heat would have added to it.

The body was bloated from prolonged exposure to the water. Somehow water had leaked into the case, probably from a crack in the bottom. The pressure from sinking to the bottom had caused it to fill, thus contaminating the body. A thick layer of greenish yellow tinged slime coated the victim, obscuring the features; the slime looked as if it belonged in the hands of a giddy five year old, playing with it, instead of on a deceased human being. The thought sickened him worse. Dr. Huntzberger appeared unaffected by the gruesome sight, tracing what he assumed was the chest.

He took a deep breath and began again. "What is it?"

Her arm came out of the slime with a squelching 'pop'. The jumpsuit was removed and kicked aside before she turned back to him.

"What is it?" Mocking his question, she pulled her hair back into an easy tail. "It's a dead body. I thought that was obvious."

He frowned at her. The effect was diminished due to half of his face being covered to escape the smell. "That's not what I meant." Must she always try him?

"You asked. I'm just kidding. The M.E. can't identify much because of the layer of decomposed flesh and water. Exact time of death will be impossible; the exposure to water has acted as a catalyst, bloating the body and speeding up the rate of decomposition. However, knowing this, she will be able to give us a rough estimate after she has it on the table." She paused for a moment and then looked at him. "Whoever did this is a psycho."

Don eyed the body. He couldn't discern much from it. "Why's that?"

An eyebrow arched. "Well, if you would look at it properly… Really it's just a body; there is nothing to be ashamed of. You would see that there is no head." Her index finger made a neat circle. He took a closer look, following her advice to 'look at it properly'. Sure enough, she was correct. The spinal column was barely visible beneath the green layer, but a head was definitely absent.

"Is that something interesting? Why would the head be missing?"

"It's a classic motive. They sometimes keep them as trophies."

"It could be, or not. Maybe he just wanted to cut the head off."

"It could be something that the killer just did. We'll just have to see. At any rate, I'm done here. Did the fisherman give up anything useful?"

He replied that Colby and Megan had talked to him, but he hadn't talked to either of the two yet. They were moving back towards the dock now, and he was grateful to put some distance between himself and the body. He could breath more freely now. The air wasn't as fetid and fowl. Pausing, Dr. Huntzberger gave orders to two transport techs to carefully transfer the body in the trunk to the morgue, without removing it.

The agent was first off the boat and he turned to offer her his hand. She only had one free, the other held her kit. Surprisingly, she took it, albeit with a small look.

"Thank you, Agent Eppes."

"You know, your friends are letting me call them by their first names now." Dear God, was he being nice to her now? There you go, Donnie. Be nice. He quickly shushed his subconscious which sounded very much like Alan Eppes.

She took the bait. "Really? Well then, if everyone else is doing it, then by all means who am I to stop them?"

Don looked up as she knocked on the glass and entered war room. Peyton waved in greeting and nodded, interpreting his index finger to mean he needed a minute to finish his phone call. Her ears picked up on snippets of the conversation; it sounded as if he was speaking with his other agents. Growing bored, she figured she might as well boot up the laptop while she waited. Like a repeat from her first time in this room, the file dropped with an echoing 'smack'. Don rounded at the sound, shooting her a look. Her shoulders lifted in an innocent shrug and he moved further away. Rolling her eyes, she bent down to connect the USB drive with the side port.

The sound of the regular commotion from the bullpen caused her to turn around, and much to her amusement, caused Don to shuffle closer to the window. The last member of his merry troop of agents closed the door. Sinclair. David Sinclair was his name.

"Dr. Huntzberger." He dropped into a chair next to her kneeled form as she waged war with the computer. Contrary to popular belief, her genius intelligence had not manifested itself into computer intelligence. All of her traps to keep her work hidden on her own laptop had been designed by a paid consultant.

"Brutus and Cassius have reached an understanding without clueing me in. We've decided to drop the surnames. So it would seem that it is now just Peyton. Or Chief. Or you can call me Caesar. I like that last one."

"Ok, Chief," he flashed her a smile full of white teeth. "The M.E. wanted to let you know that she won't be examining our victim until later today. She has another to look at first. But they did remove the body, and take two sets of preliminary prints: one of the body, the other of the trunk."

"I know. I've got them right here. I was just waiting for him to finish his phone call. I've already looked at them downstairs, but I figured that you would want to see them too."

"I'm done." Don reattached his cell phone and took up a relaxed pose against the table. Peyton jammed a few keys, waiting for the tell tale reaction from Sinclair. And there it was.

"Good God. What the hell is that?" David's jaw dropped and he stared openly, fascinated and repulsed at the same time.

"Yeah, well, you weren't there, David. You didn't have to smell it. Is that the trunk itself?" Don pointed to the screen, the object of his question.

"The body looked like something Rod Serling would have introduced." Moving from her knees to the screen, Peyton tapped it and was wholly satisfied with herself when it did what she wanted. "This is the interesting part. The trunk was lined with some type of cloth. The water and chemicals left behind an outline of the body. This part right here," she circled it with her index and middle fingers. "Is an oval indentation that they said could possibly be-,"

"The missing head." Don finished for her, jumping up, excitement evident.

"Right!"

David looked back and forth between his boss and her. He looked to be confused, but she didn't stop to explain and neither did Don.

"But here's the catch. Kathryn said that the fisherman didn't find the body in the trunk. He found it in the net. Meaning that the body fell out of the trunk."

"Right. He freaked out and put it back in."

"Yes. The impression clearly indicates that the head was at some point in the trunk when it was under water. But the head is now absent and we need to find it. I think, and the people downstairs agree, that the trunk opened sometime in between it catching in the net and the fisherman releasing it on the deck. The jostling and friction opened the latch. If we search the nets, I bet you that we'll find a hole. Here's what I think happened: the trunk got caught as the net dragged along while the boat drifted in the bay, it opened, the head flowed away, the body stayed behind, and the fisherman panicked and placed it back in the trunk sans head."

"That's possible. I'll get Colby and Megan to see if they can get the nets."

"We still have a problem. The head. It's currently somewhere in the bay. It could take days to find it; we could try searching in the last spot where he was, but there are too many variables to take into account. The currents, the weather today, the wind, the rate of which the head descended…"

"Variables?" Don grinned.

She cocked her head to the side and cried out in exasperation, "Yes! Variables. Weren't you listening to anything I just said? I don't talk for my health, Agent-,"

"I know a guy." He cut off her off again. That was developing into a habit of his.

"You know a guy?"

"Un-hunh. Come with me." He shepherded her out the door, and she didn't have much of a choice despite her protests of "Who is this guy?" He ignored her in favor of turning and leaving orders for David to try and track down where the trunk could have possibly come from. She glowered. 'Stupid man. Stupid McFed. Knows a guy. Knows a guy, my ass.'

Numbers and symbols flew across the board. The hand that wrote them was in the zone. In the numbers zone. Lost in his own world. The images wouldn't slow down and his fingers just couldn't seem to make them reappear fast enough. His curls bounced as he shook his head, pleading with his mind to focus. Lately, it wasn't often that he got this kind of rush for his Cognitive Emergence Theory. He'd been far to busy with other things: his classes, Larry's classes, helping his brother on cases. He needed to focus. He needed to get this thought down. This equation had potential. If he ran with it enough it could potentially cut out a whole section. It would save time and make his work all the more brilliant. He grinned as chalk bits flew. It would-

SLAM! The sound of a door slamming against the wall and voices reverberating down the hallway brought him out of his world and into this one. It was gone. The images fleeing from his head like water slipping through his fingers. Why had he left his office door open? His customary headphones were in the garage where he had left them last night. In hindsight, he probably should have brought them.

His brown curls shook again as he struggled to reclaim what had been lost. It had been right there. It tantalized him, just out of his reach. Numbers, symbols- gone again. The voices were coming closer and one he recognized.

"You know a guy? Why are we here? This is a college."

"I know."

That was his brother's voice and there was only one reason why he would be here at this time. It meant he had another case. He cast a forlorn look at the chalk writing; they would have to wait. Was it really a quarter till three? That meant he had been in here ever since his noon lecture dismissed, and he had missed lunch. As if to confirm that he hadn't eaten since this morning, his stomach let out a lengthy growl.

He flushed in embarrassment as he looked up to see his brother and a woman in his office, wearing amused smiles. "Don. Hi. Is there…uh…something I can help you with?"

"Lunch maybe? When's the last time you ate?"

"I fail to see how that has any relevance as to why you are here. Common sense tells me that you didn't come here to argue about my eating habits. You do that enough at home." The last part was mumbled.

"Is that so? Well, common sense tells me to eat when I'm hungry."

He opened his mouth to retort but was beat by his brother's guest.

"Ahem." Charlie couldn't make out who she was from behind Don's shoulder.

"Oh. Peyton," he moved aside and Charlie saw her clearly. The blonde hair, green eyes, and height gave her away instantly. He knew that face. He'd seen it featured in journals and had spoken to it on occasion. Her eyes widened in recognition as his did the same, even as Don continued to introduce them. "This is my brother-"

"Dr. Eppes."

"Dr. Huntzberger. It's a pleasure to see you again."

"Like wise. It's been a while."

Don glanced between the two as they shook hands and then spoke, slightly annoyed. "It looks like you two already know each other."

"I told you last night Don that I've met her before." He spoke quietly so that only he could hear him. Charlie didn't want to embarrass himself in front of her, even if it was because Don couldn't remember their discussion last night.

Dr. Huntzberger rocked back on her heels, bringing the focus back to her. "Brother?" she pointed at him and then Don, confusion on her face. "Eppes and Eppes. In hindsight I ought to have seen this. Or at least have made the connection."

Charlie watched in concealed amusement as she rounded on Don. "Oh, seriously. It's not funny. Didn't we come here for a reason?"

Charlie perked up at this. They had something for him. He cast one more dismal glance at his chalkboard. Letting out an internal sigh, he figured that the numbers and symbols could wait. It couldn't hurt; the thoughts were lost for the moment and would only come back when they were good and ready. Besides, he had never worked with Dr. Huntzberger before and he was interested to see if she was as smart as everyone said she was.

Making up his mind, he cleared his throat to gain the attention of the other two bickering persons in his office. "You have something for me?"

A.N's: Some stuff to tell today...First thing, I'm leaving for ten days to go and play with the federal government. Weee! No, really. I'm going to D.C. because I have been chosen to be a participate in the Congressional Law and Trial conference. I will be back on the 5th, and hope to have the next chapter up a few days after I get back. I won't have access to a computer, they are forbidding me from bringing my laptop. Assholes. :) So, I'll see you when I get back! And hopefully, my inbox will be full...ah that would be a nice welcome home! Wish me a safe flight!

2nd thing, If there is anyone out there who could tell me what bugs are used to 'de-flesh' dead bodies. that would be most appreciated. Also, I think you can use industrial strength phosphoric acid, but I'm not sure. So, if there is anybody out there with a forensic degree/chemistry degree/ or has a textbook, if they could please let me know. I would be so grateful.

3rd, thanks to my reviewers and those who read this. Much love to you guys! Let me know what you think, and I think we all knew who Don's guy was...I just hope the Earth doesn't spin off its axis with both doctors in the room.