A/N: I'm updating slightly early this weekend, since I'm going out of town (hopefully…stupid snow!) tomorrow.

We hope you enjoy this chapter! Thanks for reading and reviewing!

I don't own CSI. Some inspiration and dialogue are borrowed from episode 404, "Feeling the Heat."

October 2003

"Okay," Grissom said, winding up his staff meeting, "that's almost it. One more thing: Carvallo is currently looking for a member of each team to take on the position of Lead CSI."

"Lead CSI?" Warrick asks. "What's that?"

"Shall we say, third in command? The responsibilities include training new team members, scheduling, taking the lead when Catherine or I aren't at a scene … and generally doing anything the two of us don't want to."

"So, basically, being Grissom's bitch," Greg muttered. Archie coughed to cover his laughter.

"No thanks," Warrick said, leaning back in his chair. "I'm good with all the work you two pile on me right now."

"Wimp," Catherine teased.

"But, I'm a happy wimp," he replied with a grin.

Sara barely heard their exchange. She was busy considering the position and all it would entail. That she would apply wasn't even a question. She wanted it – very much. In many ways, it would make her something of a supervisor. Being Grissom's professional equal – or, at least, closer to it – would only make their personal relationship stronger. Maybe they wouldn't even face the rule-breaking that currently had Grissom so terrified. And, if Warrick wasn't even planning to apply, her chances of getting the position were very good.

Sara glanced up to see Nick looking at Grissom. His eyes were shining in a way that made her nervous.

Nick wanted the position, too.

October 2015

The paramedics are still on the scene when Sara and Greg arrive. They look at the CSIs with sad eyes and shake their heads.

"They don't usually look so sad," Greg says.

"I know," Sara agrees. "This can't be good."

Brass comes to meet them. He, too, looks sad.

"Hey," Sara says. "What have you got?"

"Vic is a toddler," he says.

Greg looks at Sara. "Are you going to be okay with this one?"

"Yeah," Sara says a bit too quickly.

"You're sure?"

Sara glares at him.

"Okay, okay," Greg says, holding up his hands in surrender.

"Where is the vic, Jim?" Sara asks.

"Right this way."

Brass leads them through the house to the baby's room. She is in her crib, face up and surrounded by her toys. She could be asleep.

"Madison Kent," Brass says. "Thirteen months old. Mother says she came to check on her and found her unresponsive. She called 911; paramedics pronounced."

"Bruises on the arms and legs," Greg comments as he observes the body.

"Kids fall a lot," Sara says. "She's probably learning to walk."

Greg shakes his head. "I don't know …"

"What?" Sara asks.

"I just have a feeling this one wasn't accidental."

"I'm going to get a statement from the mother now," Brass says. "I'll tell you more when I know it."

Sara nods, feeling a stab of pain for the woman. No mother should have to give that kind of statement.

She looks back at the baby, just barely stopping herself from brushing her hand along her tiny cheek. She looks so peaceful …

As she stares at Madison's cheek, Sara tilts her head to the side.

"What?" Greg asks.

Sara shines her flashlight on the little girl's face. "Her cheek … the skin looks … odd, doesn't it?"

Greg leans in for a closer look. "Scar tissue?" he asks.

Sara looks up at him. "I think you might be right about this one not being accidental."

October 2003

"Hey."

Grissom and Catherine looked up from the files they were reviewing to see Brass standing in the break room doorway. He looked very serious.

"Well, that's not a happy face," Catherine commented.

"We've got another baby in a car," he said.

"Oh, no." Catherine's face fell.

Grissom sighed. "Okay. We're ready when you are."

October 2015

"Hi, guys," David says as he joins them in the bedroom.

Greg is photo documenting and Sara is fingerprinting; they both look up when he enters the room.

"Hey, Dave," Greg greets him.

"Tough one," David says, standing over the crib and looking down at the baby for a moment.

Sara's head snaps up. She looks at the new father closely. "David … will you be all right with this one?"

He shrugs. "I have to be, right?"

"Sara and I suspect foul play," Greg says quickly. "No chance of that with Sammie, right?"

David smiles slightly at the mention of his daughter. "No, I'm sure if anything, she'll be protected to death."

"Yeah, I've been there," Sara says with a smile. "After awhile, you just have to sort of let them go and be there to pick them up when they fall."

"But, not this young," David says quietly, looking down at the still child again.

A moment passes before he can open his kit and get to work. Greg looks at Sara.

"Sara …"

"Yeah?"

"When David's ready, I'll go back with the body. You can stay here and process the scene."

Sara looks at him with questions in her eyes.

"With kids, it's hard no matter what," he says. "But, I think it's easier to be away from the body."

Sara nods her silent agreement. "Thanks, Greg."

He nods, hoping that his small gesture will be enough to help her through this difficult case.

October 2003

"Hey, Sara!"

Sara stopped her progress down the hall and turned to follow Greg back into his lab.

"You have my DNA results already?" She had only dropped the sample off an hour earlier.

"No," Greg said, his eyes shining. "I've got something even better!"

"What could possibly be better than DNA results in a rape investigation?" Sara asked.

"Gossip!"

Sara smiled tolerantly. "Okay. I'm listening."

"You applied for the position of Grissom's bitch, right?"

Sara flushed a bright shade of red. If you only knew…

"Hey, nothing to be ashamed of. Career advancement is career advancement, right?"

"Right," Sara said, nearly choking on the word. Okay, I'm staring to get that policy about supervisors and subordinates …

"Well … Are you interested in knowing who your competition is?"

"Yes," she said quickly.

Greg grinned. "I knew you would be. Word on the street is that Nick applied."

"Cite your source."

"Nick."

"Okay, good source. Did you tell him that I applied?"

"I may have mentioned it …"

"Some secret keeper you are!"

"You never told me it was a secret! Besides, if you get it, everyone's going to find out you applied."

"Fair enough," Sara said, rolling her eyes. "Thanks for the info, Greg."

"I'm here to help."

While Brass futilely searched the glove box of the car holding the dead baby for a registration card, Grissom and Catherine looked into the backseat. The little boy was strapped safely into his car seat.

"When are parents going to learn that a car is not a babysitter?" Catherine asked.

Grissom shook his head and looked at the thermometer he was holding. "One hundred eight degrees outside."

"You want to document the inside temperature?" Brass asked, opening the back door for him.

Grissom nodded and slipped the thermometer into the car, then closed the door.

"How many of these have we had this year?" Brass asked as they all looked at the baby.

"I lost count after ten," Catherine said, shaking her head.

"This one makes twelve," Grissom said, exchanging a look with Brass. They both knew that Catherine would only count deaths such as these until she reached ten; after that, she refused to count another dead baby.

A man forced his way through the crowd, demanding to know what was happening with his car. Brass went to deal with him; Grissom took the thermometer out of the car.

"One hundred forty-five degrees inside the car," he said.

Catherine's face fell as she looked from Grissom to the young father. "What was he thinking?"

"He wasn't," Grissom said simply. He looked back at the baby and sighed. "I'll bet he was a 'good' baby. Maybe if he had cried a little more, his father wouldn't have been able to forget him."

Catherine shook her head again.

"Hey, guys," David said as he joined them. "Another of these, huh?"

"If it's not babies in cars, it's babies in swimming pools," Catherine said. "It's that time of year."

David conducted his examination, and declared the baby ready for transport. Catherine was about to lift him from his car seat when Grissom appeared behind her.

"I brought a sheet," he said. "With all these looky-loos, I think we'd better treat this like the baby's still alive."

Catherine looked at the large crowd just outside the crime scene tape and nodded. She pulled the baby from the car as though he were alive; she and Grissom wrapped him in the sheet. Catherine carried the baby to the coroner's van and strapped him in.

By the time she returned to Grissom, he was ending a phone call. She looked at him with raised eyebrows.

"Transport," he said. "They're on their way for the car."

"Good. Back to the lab?"

"Back to the lab."

"Hey," Brass said as he joined them. "I'm going to take the dad to PD for questioning. One of you want to come with?"

"You go ahead," Grissom said, nodding to Catherine.

"I guess it's just 'back to the lab' for you, then."

He nodded. "I'll start processing the blankets."

Catherine sighed. "Call if you need me."

"I will."

"Hey!"

Grissom looked up just in time to stop himself before running into Sara. "Sara, hi," he said. "I'm sorry. I didn't see you."

"No, I didn't think you did," she said, peeking at the report in his hands. "What's got your attention?"

"Just a case," he said, adjusting the report out of her line of vision. "It's … a tough one. A baby was found dead in a car."

Sara closed her eyes briefly. "Another one?"

"Yeah. Twelfth this year."

"Sounds like fun."

"Yeah," he said quietly. He shakes his head. "I just don't understand how anyone could do that to a baby."

Sara looked at him for a minute. "Listen, do you want to come over tonight?" she asked, lowering her voice to just above a whisper. "We can have dinner … just sort of chill out. De-stress."

Grissom considered her suggestion briefly, then nodded. "Yeah. But, why don't you come to my place? I'd like to cook for you."

"Okay," Sara said with a smile.

Grissom returned her smile, thinking of how much he wanted to take care of her. As their eyes met, a shiver of anticipation ran through him that he was sure had nothing to do with anything other than his basest desires.

He cleared his throat. "Um … I've got a case for you," he said, struggling to bring his thoughts back to safer ground. "Park rangers found a body floating in Lake Mead. I want you and Nick to check it out."

"You've got it," Sara said, taking the assignment slip from him. "I'll find Nick."

"Good."

"And," she said as she started backing away, "I'll see you later."

"Yeah," Grissom said, his voice lower than usual, "you will."

Grinning, Sara turned the corner. She needed to put some distance between them before she did something crazy that would get them both fired.

Nick and Sara had very little to go on. Their victim had been found floating in Lake Mead wearing a bikini top, board shorts, water shoes and no identification. The park ranger who had found her had dragged her to the nearest beach; they were also without a primary crime scene.

With so little to process at their scene, they took her back to the morgue rather quickly.

"Okay," Nick said as they walked down the hall to the morgue, "what do we know?"

"She's young – late teens, early twenties," Sara said. "She's tan, so she might spend a lot of time at the lake. Maybe we should get a picture of her to the vendors in the area; someone might know her."

"Good idea," Nick said. "We also know, due to the lack of foam in her mouth, that she probably didn't drown. Her head is gashed and her neck appears to be broken."

"So, she probably didn't die on the water," Sara said. "Why go through all the trouble to break her neck if you can just shove her head under water?"

"Good point," Nick agreed. He opened the door for Sara. "After you."

Sara smiled and went into the morgue, where their victim was waiting for them.

"Head or feet?" she asked.

"Feet," Nick replied.

"Works for me."

Sara began combing through the girl's hair, while Nick began a careful search of her skin. He looked up as Sara pulled something from her hair.

"What's that?"

"Green … something," she said. Something for Hodges to worry about.

"No birthmark. No scars. No tattoos," Nick said. Nothing to help identify her. He continued moving up and found a locker key in her pocket.

"I got a locker key," he said.

"You put in for the promotion, huh?" Sara asked. It wasn't that she didn't believe Greg, but she needed "official" confirmation.

"Yeah, yeah, last week," Nick said. "I still haven't heard anything about it."

"Yeah, neither have I," Sara said.

David came in, ending their conversation. Sara felt slightly relieved. If Nick hadn't heard anything, either, it meant that she hadn't been passed over – not yet, anyway.

October 2015

"Okay, we're ready," David says.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," Greg says.

Sara nods. "It's a big house; I'll need your help."

"I'll ask Langston to cover the autopsy if we can't make it back. Or, if Nick's around, I'll ask him to come here to help."

"Works for me," Sara agrees. "Thanks, Greg."

"You're welcome."

The men leave with little Madison's body, and Sara looks around the room. She takes in the toys, the pretty dresses, the framed pictures, and wonders what happened. She picks up a picture from the dresser. It shows Madison laughing in her mother's arms.

"Everything in this room tells me your parents adored you," she whispers. "But, your body tells me that you were abused. What happened? What went wrong?"

Shaking her head, she puts the picture down.

"Enough questions. I need some answers."