Note: I didn't forget about you guys, I've just been very busy with sports, school, friends and family. But I can't thank you guys enough for the reviews, you all rock! Now, I've done a ton of research (and a loooot of math) and have pretty much decided when the twins will be born. I've got most of the rest of the story planned out, so I hope that will help me write and update a little faster. Unfortunately, school has started, so that will slow things down. I hope you continue to read!

Also, a new character will be introduced in this chapter. It's nothing big, and probably not who you think it is, but I thought this would be a good time to put him in the story.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, all mistakes are mine.

Chapter 8:

It had taken a full two weeks for Sara's bruise to fully heal, and now she could finally leave her home without covering her face in makeup, or wearing unnecessarily large sunglasses. But, with her being fourteen weeks pregnant; just barely into her second trimester, people were becoming less distracted by her (now gone) bruise and more distracted by her growing abdomen. She couldn't wear any of the old jeans or shirts she used to wear. She'd gone out and bought cloths that she could wear; at home and at work, hoping that if it didn't cling to her like her old cloths did, it wouldn't be as notice able. It worked, but not for long.

By the time she was at week fifteen, she felt like all the pregnancy symptoms were coming all at once. Her feet were beginning to swell, she had horrible migraines, stretch marks had begun to form around her stomach, she craved pickles and ice cream; together, no less, she would sometimes become breathless, and-as of only a few days prior-her mood swings had become a lot more frequent.

And Grissom had been there for it all.

He massaged her feet, most times without her even asking. He'd told her about old remedies to relieve migraines, such as massaging certain part of her head. He'd gone out and bought her whatever crazy food she was craving, no matter how late or early it was. He would stand; or sit-depending on how bad the situation was, by her side until she could breath properly again. And he would allow her to cry on his shoulder, scream at him for getting her pregnant, then laugh about it…All in thirty seconds.

But she wasn't the only one experiencing changes,

Grissom had been so busy filling out the paperwork that had piled onto his desk while he was on medical leave, taking care of almost all of Sara's needs, and working his cases, that he had allowed his beard to grow. He would usually shave it once every week, but with him being so busy, he hadn't had the time.

"I can always shave it off," he had told Sara.

"Why? I like it," Sara had told him, tracing her fingers over his face, "I've never seen you with one before."

He decided not to shave.

Now, with the month of June being almost over, Sara was now at sixteen weeks. She'd received many "Congratulations!" and, "Twins? No way!", and, "You're naming one of them after me, right?" from the people she worked with (the ones who didn't already know). She had also received a few questions regarding to who the father was, so she told them everything she'd told Nick: She had a new boyfriend, and they were happy.

Therefore, she wasn't lying.

In Sara's mind, she was the luckiest person in the world.

XX

"Only one case tonight, guys." Grissom announced, entering the break room. Something in his tone told Sara that it was not a good case. Then again, Sara thought, when is a case ever good?

"It looks like a double suicide, but the mother's of the victims are suspicious." Grissom explained. He briefed them on the case, and he gave Sara strict instructions to be careful. "Oh, come on, Grissom." She said, "what could go wrong?"

Grissom mentally shuttered. "Those are some famous last words, Sara." He half-joked.

She glared at him, but then continued to her locker. She knew he was teasing her, but being serious at the same time. He was only looking out for her, she knew, but she wished he would let up, just a little bit. She was a big girl, she could take care of herself.

XX

It was almost ten when they arrived at the scene. Brass informed them that the two dead victims were cousins. They're names were Anne and Lisa, they were the same age (sixteen), went to the same school, and as of two months prior, the slightly younger Anne and her mother Irene moved into the house. He'd already begun interviewing the mothers' when the CSI's showed up.

"Do either of you know why your daughters may have done this?" Brass asked the two grieving mothers.

"No," Lisa's mother, Melanie, sniffled, "They were both 'A' students, popular, happy…" she closed her eyes and choked out a sob at the last word.

"That's why we called you guys," Irene spoke up, pulling her sister closer to her, "we just don't get why they would do this."

"What about they're fathers?" Brass asked, scribbling the information in his notes, "where are they?"

"I'm divorced," Melanie said, pulling away from her sister slightly, "Lisa goes to see him every other weekend. I haven't even told him yet…"

"My husband died last year," Irene sighed, "that's why we moved in with Melanie, the girl's were so happy, they were already like sisters."

Brass continued to interview them for a few more minutes, while the CSI's continued to process the scene. The two girls, who were only sixteen, were both hanging from ropes that were tied to the top of their bunk-bed.

"They could have stood up if the wanted to," Sara noted, her voice dark.

"Yeah," Grissom agreed, walking over to one of the bodies, he noticed that there was marks on both of their necks that didn't match with the rope. "I don't think this was a suicide."

Back outside, Brass had finished interviewing the two women. "Thank you for your time, ladies." Brass said, beginning to walk away from Irene and Melanie. "I'm truly sorry for your loss."

He turned his back on the two ladies, and walked towards the house, where Grissom and the others were beginning to exit. "You guys done?" He asked, slipping his note pad into his pocket.

Grissom nodded. "I think they were right, Brass." He spoke, his tone low, "both of the victim's had bruises on their arms, underneath the sleeves of their shirts." He looked at the two grieving mothers over Brass's shoulder, making sure they weren't listening. "They were right," Grissom whispered, his attention going back to Brass, "this was more than just a suicide."

Brass nodded in agreement, and watched as the coroners pulled the to bodies out of the house. The sound of the women crying behind him could probably be heard for miles.

XX

"What's the T.O.D.?" Sara asked.

"Somewhere between seven and eight o'clock." Robbins answered.

"The bodies were discovered at nine-fifteen," Warrick noted.

"Cause of death?" Grissom asked, nodding his head toward Lisa's body.

"Suffocation by strangulation." Robbins answered.

"What about Anne?" Sara asked.

"Same thing."

Sara looked back at Grissom. His theory had been right, they hadn't hung themselves. "Is there anything else?" Warrick asked, braking the slightly uncomfortable silence.

"One other thing." Robbins began, "on a hunch, I did a sexual assault kit on both victims. Both of them had been raped minutes before death. And from the looks of the old and new bruises on Lisa's arms, legs, and waists, I'd say this has been going on for quite some time."

Sara closed her eyes, struggling to comprehend that someone could do such a horrible thing to two young girls.

"I found semen in both of them, and sent that along with something I found underneath Anne's nails to DNA." Robbins pointed to Anne's right.

"Anything else?"

He paused. "They were both pregnant." Robbins added, his voice dark.

All eyes shifted to Sara. She looked down at the table, suddenly feeling very self-conscious.

"H-how far along were they?" She managed to ask, not taking her eyes of the table.

"Lisa was ten weeks, and Anne was seven."

Grissom's head shot up. "That's right about the time that Anne and her mother moved in with Lisa and Melanie."

"No way that's a coincidence." Warrick said, shaking his head.

Sara's blood was boiling. Warrick was right, this was no coincidence. There was only one person that came to mind that could have been doing the horrible things that were done to those girls.

"We need to interview Lisa's father."

"I'll call Brass." Warrick said, heading for the door. As Robbins slid one of the bodies back into the cooler, Grissom squeezed Sara's hand.

"Are you okay?" He whispered, knowing how uncomfortable she must have been.

"Yeah," she nodded, squeezing back before pulling away. "I'll catch up with you in a minute."

He frowned, but walked away anyway. It wasn't like her could sit her down; like they did at home, and talk to her in the middle of a room full of dead bodies. Once she heard the door click shut, she let out the sigh she'd been holding in since they walked into the morgue.

"Sara?" Doc. Robbins asked, walking over to her, "I didn't mean to upset you. But-"

"It's fine, Doc," she assured him, forcing a smile, "I know you didn't mean to."

"Don't take this the wrong way, Sara, but.." he trailed off, waiting for her response. Her eyebrows furrowed, but she nodded for him to continue.

"I told my wife about…your situation," he gestured towards her stomach, "and I was wondering…when the babies are born, who will watch them when you come back to work? I didn't know if your boyfriend worked or if one of your parents planned on watching them, but-"

"W-we both work," she stammered. She always did when anyone mentioned her 'boyfriend', because all she wanted to do was respond by saying 'Grissom' instead. "And both are parents live out of state. Why…?"

"My wife loves babysitting," he chuckled, "she said that she would be happy to watch them for you."

Sara gaped at him, taking a step back to stop herself from falling. Robbins had just taken a huge part of all her stress off of her shoulders, and she didn't even have to ask. "I…uh…I…"

He grinned at her, reaching out with one arm, pulling her in for a hug. "You're welcome."

XX

Martin Mclone had been found at a bar not far from his house. It had taken him a few hours; and a several cups of coffee, for the alcohol to finally fade away. When he had been told about his daughter and niece had died, he didn't so much as blink. He said Melanie had called him and told him, and that was why he was at the bar.

"Really?" Brass asked, looking through his notes, "when did she call you?"

"Ah, I dunno," he stammered, "about nine-thirty. Y-Yeah, nine-thirty, 'cause I got to the bar at ten."

"Well, that's funny, Martin, because when I interviewed your ex at ten o'clock, she said she hadn't even told you yet."

For a split second, a look of panic crossed Martin's face. But as quick as it came, it vanished.

"Oh, y-yeah, that's right." Beads of sweat formed on his face, "she called at ten-thirty, and I got to the bar at eleven."

Brass didn't believe him for a second.

"How'd you get the scratch on your face?" Brass asked, pointing to the three deep gashes on Mclone's cheek.

"Saw a stray cat this morning, tried to feed it, and it scratched me." He explained, his eyes flickering from Brass to the table, then back to Brass.

"So, Marty," Brass said, ignoring the mans poor excuse and slowly walking around the table in the interrogation room. "Where were you last night from seven to eight p.m.?"

"I was at home." Martin answered, his hands fidgeting on the table.

"Can anyone verify that?"

Martin shook his head, his head drooping dramatically.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk." Brass said, shaking his own head. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to get a DNA sample from you pal."

"What?" Martin exclaimed, his head shooting back up, "why?"

"You wanna know why?" Brass asked, his anger rising, "I'll tell you why: Your daughter and niece are dead, and just before they were murdered, they were raped. DNA was found under Anne's nails, consistent with her scratching someone."

"I don't see what any of this has to do with me," Mclone pointed out, his hands balling into fists.

"Well, the judge did, so he gave me this here warrant," Brass sneered, waving the paper in font of him. Just as he did so, Nick walked out of the viewing room, and into the interrogation room.

"So, open wide."

"No!" Martin slammed his fists onto the table. "I want a lawyer. Now!"

"You'll get your lawyer, after I get my DNA sample." Nick said.

Martin stood, grabbed his chair and slung it in Nick and Brass's direction. It missed them, narrowly, and slammed into the glass mirror that divided the viewing room from the interrogation room.

The two officers who had been standing by the door jumped into action, grabbing Mclone's arms and holding them behind his back, who had began screaming out, both in pain and anger.

Seeing his opportunity, Nick hurried over and swabbed the inside of Martin's cheek, and hurried out of the room before Martin could protest further.

The others were already waiting for him when he exited the room.

"All we have to do now is test this against the DNA found in both girls, and we've got him."

XX

Sara lied in Grissom's bed, tears streaming down the side of her face, pooling around her ears. Her hair was pulled back into a damp ponytail, due to the tears and just getting out of the shower. She had never, in all her years of being a CSI-or even before-, been so discussed in her entire life. Martin's confession was ringing in her head, eating her alive.

Martin Mclone had been raping his daughter since she was fourteen in a half. "That was when Melanie and I met," he had said, "Lisa look just like her…"

Lisa had never told her mother. "I told her I'd kill them both if she told."

After later interviewing Melanie and Irene again, they discovered that Lisa had refused to go over to her father's house many times, but every time she fought with her mother, the later she got to her father's, and the later she got to his house, the worse it was.

Perhaps she hoped that if she was on time, he wouldn't hurt her.

He had done it almost every weekend she came over. The only time he didn't was when she had a friend over, so Lisa thought it would be safe to bring Anne with her once they moved in. And for the first week, it was.

But eventually, the safety was gone, and he went for Anne, too.

Anne never went to the house again. Eventually, Lisa began playing sick, just so she wouldn't have to go to her dad's. That worked the first time, and the next, but this time her wasn't going to settle for a 'no'.

"I waited until Melanie and Irene went to the movies, and then I broke into the house." Mclone had explained, no hesitation in his voice. "After I went into their room, they told me that they were pregnant, It's sent me back some…memories with Melanie, so I strangled them with my bare hands." He had closed his eyes for the first time through out the whole interview, then glared up at Brass.

"How could something like that, take you back to a moment with you're ex wife?" Brass has asked.

"Because I did the same thing to her."

Sara cringed as his words went through her mind again. After talking to the mother again, the story was confirmed. When Melanie was seventeen, and Martin was almost twenty, the two of them had been together for two years, and after having a huge argument, he raped her. She found out three months later that she was pregnant, so the two married. They moved in with Irene and her husband, (who were both in their mid twenties) who were also expecting a baby. Nine in a half months later, Lisa was born, and two months later, Anne was too.

Two lives, so young, so innocent, cut so tragically short, Sara thought, wiping her face, only having it soaked by more tears moments later.

"Sara?" Grissom asked, stepping out of the steaming bathroom, just getting out of his own shower, "honey, are you still awake?"

"That bastard." Sara growled, turning her back to the door of the bathroom, purposely hiding her face from Grissom, "that sick, horrible, fucking bastard!" She cried, burring her face into her pillow.

Grissom knew that this was very hard on her. Most cases like this were hard on anyone, but Sara always took these very personally. He didn't know why, but that was who she was, and he wouldn't change her for the world.

"Look at it this way," Grissom tried, pulling on his boxers and climbing in next to her, "we put the sick bastard behind bars, that's gotta be good for something, right?"

"Yeah," she sniffled, "but two innocent girls had to be tortured and killed for us to be able to do that."

He pulled her closer, wrapping his arms tightly around her. He wasn't sure how long she cried on his arm, but eventually, when there were no tears left, she closed her eyes and fell asleep, her head resting on his chest.

As carefully as he could, he slid out from under, doing his best not to disturb her slumber. He hated seeing her like this. Even before they were together, seeing her upset broke his heart. Sighing, he absently wiped his hand over his face, as if that would make all his problems go away. But of course, he knew, it wouldn't.

When he looked back up, he found himself standing in front of their calendar. He'd stared at the thing numerous times, hoping that if he stared at it long enough, the worst of his days would go by faster. Sometimes it helped, other times it did the opposite.

He stared at all the dates the two of them had circled in the cliché red sharpie, like on the calendars in the classic romance movies, where a couple was marking down the days with that bright red marker, excitedly waiting for some special day to arrive.

Now, he and Sara were that classic couple, circling doctor appointments, putting a little star on the days where something special happened, and mentally counting down the days that their twins would arrive.

The thought of his two unborn children brought a smile to his face. He always wondered what it would be like to have a family. Like most expecting fathers, he couldn't help but wonder if he'd be any good at parenting. What if they don't like me? Had gone through his mind so many times, he couldn't count.

His eyes landed on the seventeenth of July, the date where him and Sara were going to find out if they were having boys, girls, or both. But, lately, he'd begun to wonder if he really wanted to find out. There were very few surprises in life, why waste them? Then again, it would be a lot easier for them if they went ahead and found out. He'd have to talk to Sara about it. Later, of course, she was sleeping now.

The tree loud 'knocks' that came from his door brought him from is thoughts. The sun had started to rise, he noticed. How long had he been staring at that calendar?

"Hello, Mr. Grissom!" His overly-cheery, two-houses-down-the-road neighbor, Sandy Mercer, greeted.

"Hello, Sandy," he put on his best smile, despite his mood, "what brings you here?"

"Well, a friend of mine's dog, had a litter of puppies a few months ago, and she told me to ask around, see who might want one. Do you think you'd be interested?"

"I don't know," Grissom sighed, "I have bad hours at work, so I don't know how much time I'd get to spend with a dog. What kind is it?"

"A Boxer."

Grissom thought about it for a moment. He loved dogs, and he knew Sara did, too. Perhaps a puppy would be a good present for her?

"I'll come take a look at them," he finally said, "where does she live?"

Her face lit up, "just down the road, it's not far at all." She turned, gesturing for him to fallow.

"Hold on, just a sec," he turned on his heel, and headed for the bedroom, and peeked inside the door. Sara was still sound asleep. He wrote her a quick note, taped it to the bathroom door, and finally walked back outside.

"Should I get my car?" Grissom asked.

"Probably," Sandy agreed, "it's a tad to far to walk. Just follow me there."

The drive wasn't long at all, and shortly after they left his house, they pulled into the driveway of a small, pale blue house. A woman, probably in her mid thirties, was sitting on a chair on her porch, a huge smile on her face.

"Thank you for coming, Mr. Grissom," the woman smiled, reaching her hand out to shake his, "my name is Jessica."

"I don't know if I'll actually buy one, Jessica, I-"

"I think once you see their sweet little faces, you'll just have to get one." Jessica said, entering the house.

A large, tan Boxer sat in the middle of the floor. Grissom guessed that that was the mother, and four, and much smaller puppies surrounded her, climbing and running around her. Jessica sat Grissom down on the couch in front of the dogs, and began her presentation.

"The big one is Daisy, she's the momma, and belongs." Jessica patted the dogs huge head.

"This one," she picked up the largest puppy of the litter and sitting him in front of Grissom "is Trunk. He's the biggest one. He weighed about a pound heavier than the others when they were born!"

Grissom stared down at the puppy. He was a lighter shade of tan than his mother, and had deep brown eyes. The puppy met his eyes for a short moment, then tried to chew on his shoes.

"No, Truck! Bad!" Jessica popped the puppy on his bottom, then set him back next to his mother. "I'm sorry, Mr. Grissom, their still teething."

"It's fine." Grissom smiled.

"This one right here," She picked up another puppy, this one smaller than Truck, but not the smallest of them all, "is Joey. She's got a ton of energy."

Sure enough, when she let go of the puppy, Joey leapt for Grissom, landing in his lap and licking at his face. He blocked her, and put her back on the ground. This one definitely wasn't for him.

"That black one right there is Lucy, I'm keeping her, but this little guy is up for sale." She picked up the smallest puppy and set him in front of Grissom. It was a little male puppy, who was about the same shade of tan as his mother.

The puppy stared up at him with big, brown eyes. Grissom smiled and scratched the dog behind one of his ears. The little guy practically melted into Grissom's hand.

"This ones name is Hank, y'know, like the baseball player? This little guy is an absolute angel." Jessica smiled.

Grissom mentally cringed. Hank? The dog I want had to be named Hank? "Hank." Grissom whispered, and the puppy's head whirled around, looking up at him. No changing it, Grissom thought.

"But for some reason, no one will take him" Jessica said, her voice sad. "No one seems to want runts."

"How much is he?" Grissom asked, patting the little guy's head.

"Fifty bucks."

Grissom looked up at her in surprise. Sandy had said they were purebred, so he'd expected more.

"Even after I said he had all his shots, was a purebred, and was the sweetest out of the litter, no one would take him. I just want him to go to a good family."

Smiling, Grissom scooped the puppy in one arm, and pulled out his wallet with the other. "I'll take him."

XX

"Sit,"

Hank sat.

"Good boy!" Grissom whispered, tossing a treat to his new little companion.

"Stay," he tried, taking a few steps back. Hank didn't budge.

"Good boy," he tossed another treat.

He'd been out for close to an hour with his new little friend. Buying food, treats, toys, and even a nice red collar and leash. Hank even new a few tricks, thanks to his previous owner. All Grissom had to do now was wake Sara up.

Tiptoeing into the bedroom, he found her exactly how he left her: curled up in the middle of the bed. He walked over, brushing a few strand of hair out of her face. She looked so peaceful, he almost considered not waking her up. As if on cue, Hank whined from the living room. Sara stirred in her sleep, rolling onto her back. Grissom smiled, and sat down next to her, resting his hand on her plump belly. She moved her hand on top of his.

"Hi, honey." He smiled, watching as she opened her eyes. "Sleep well?"

"Surprisingly, yes" she sighed, squeezing his hand.

"I know the past few days have been rough on you, so," he paused so he could stand, "I got you a present."

Her eyes widened. "A…a present?"

His smile grew wider, "close your eyes."

"That's a very dangerous thing to ask a pregnant woman to do, Grissom." She teased as she climbed out of bed.

"Humor me, Sara."

She rolled her eyes, but gave in and closed them. He took her hand in his, and carefully led her to the living room. Hank was still sitting where Grissom had left him, but he fidgeted with excitement as they walked into the room. Grissom mouthed 'stay' and pointed his free hand at the small puppy. Hank obeyed, and became very still.

"Okay," Grissom let go of her hand, "open your eyes!"

The first thing she saw were Hank's big, chocolate brown eyes starring back at her. Sara looked at Grissom, who was grinning madly, then back to the dog. "You…you got me a puppy?"

The confusion in her voice was enough to wipe the grin clean off Grissom's face. Oh no, did I mess up? This was a bad idea. I'll have to take him back, I-

Sara's childish giggles brought him from his thoughts. Sara was scratching Hank behind his ear, and he was leaning into her hand, just like he'd done with Grissom earlier. He slowly walked over, and sat down next to her.

"S-so, you like him?" He asked nervously.

"He's precious, Grissom!" She giggled, holding Hank's head in her hands. "What's his name?"

"Hank."

She stopped playing with the dog, and looked back at Grissom. He held his hands up in defense, "his previous owner already named him!"

She stared back down at the little guy, who was chewing on one of the toys Grissom had bought him. "Spot?" She tried.

Nothing.

"Uh…Sam?"

Nothing.

Grissom laughed, "Hank." Hank's head whirled upward, starring at them.

"Well," Sara thought for a moment, patting the puppy's head, "he is pretty cute…"

As if on cue, Hank hopped on the couch next to her, licking her hand. Giggling madly, she hugged the brown ball of fur, who licked her cheek. "Thank you, Grissom. This really made my day." She smiled, leaning on his shoulder.

He planted a kiss in her hair, and reached behind her to pat Hank's head. After several quiet minutes passed, Grissom stood from the couch, taking Sara's hand with him.

"Come on," he said, gesturing for her to stand, "lets take him for a walk."

Sara was quiet for a moment before she stood up with him. Finally, she nodded in approval. Beaming, Grissom attached Hank to his leash, and the growing family set out for their walk.

They walked to a park that was only a mile or two away from Grissom's house. There wasn't many people around; most kids were still in school, and most adults were still at work. After a few minutes of walking, they sat down on one of the benches that were scattered throughout the park, and watched Hank roll in the grass.

"I was looking at the calendar, earlier today," Grissom began, wrapping his arm around Sara's waist, "and my eyes landed on July seventeenth." He saw Sara beam out of the corner of his eye. "and, well, I got to thinking…and…I was wondering…do we really have to know what they are? I mean, wouldn't it be fun to just wait?"

He'd expected her to think about it for a while, but to his surprise she responded quickly.

"I was thinking the same thing, the other day." She agreed, "we can still go, but, we don't absolutely have to find out."

"But," she continued, "I would like to know; if there is any way to tell, if their identical, or fraternal."

"Well, if there is such a way, I'd like to know, too." Grissom agreed.

"Then it's settled?" Sara asked, looking up at him.

Grissom beamed, and pressed his nose against hers. "Settled."

XX

I'm sorry this one is a little short, but It's been way to long since my last update. I apologize for that. Time just hasn't been on my side lately. I hope this was worth the wait. Please read and review!

TBC!