The pair of old Hartford C.S.I.s drove to see Grissom at the crime lab the next day, when they knew that Eric was fast asleep and would not miss them. However, their only disadvantage was bringing Michael with them, who did not whine, as he usually did, but stayed quiet and behaved on the way there, bringing both relief in many forms.
"Do we have to bring him?" Ursula asked as they sat in the kitchen of the new apartment. She, knowing, from experience, always said that a child shouldn't be at a crime lab. "He's going to be running around and getting into everything. Come on, Maggie, Michael is four years old…well, almost now. You're going to have to be holding his hand and making sure that he doesn't get into everything all the time or making sure that he doesn't get lost in a lab like that. And, from what I've gathered, talking with Grissom is usually a chore itself. How can you handle those things at once when I'm looking around?"
Boxes were thrown across every corner and dirty dishes already piling up in the sink, their kitchen seemed like a disaster zone, which always made Maggie frustrated. She, who had been sitting in a kitchen chair, looked up from tying her shoes and gave Ursula a murderous face, slightly irritated about the question on top of the room being a total mess. Why the hell am I asked this? Do I have a choice in leaving Michael here? He's my child and my responsibility. Of course, I'm taking him if Eric is irresponsible.
"Eric isn't going to watch him," she hissed back quietly, knowing that Eric was sleeping on a couch in the next room and bound to hear them if the conversation was loud enough for him to eavesdrop on. "So, Michael is bound to get into everything. You're right: he's four year old. He's just a boy. But, you can't pin a criminal label on him, Ursula. His father may have been a mass murderer, and he's a little like him – the little things, for sure – but you can't instigate and then expect him to be behaving himself like an angel either."
Ursula grumbled about something concerning Maggie's old enemy, and then giggled, changing her mood instantly.
"What?" Maggie asked, smiling and forgetting her irritations for the moment.
"Say, doesn't Nick Stokes still work there?" Ursula giggled again, covering her mouth to avoid waking Eric up. "You know: your former flame."
Yes, he may be my former "flame", but he and I parted on some bad terms the last time we met. We were too immature to be together and left each other at the worst possible moment: when we had to work together to bring up a baby. That was why I moved back to Connecticut. I wanted to be away and forget everything. And then, I met Eric, who swept me off of my feet and pretended to be a good guy like Nick, and here I am, tired of the bullshit and wishing I could leave him. But, how can I? He's threatened Child Services on me. And I love my child dearly, even though he's the son of Jason Napolitano and not Nick Stokes.
"I don't know if Nick is still working with Grissom now, but I'm sure of it." Maggie finished tying her sneakers and stood up, wishing that Nick was still there, for some reason. "Come on, we have to go in a minute. Michael is at the door."
A few minutes later, after arguing about silly things and laughing, the two friends were on the road with Michael. Luckily for Ursula and Maggie, traffic was light (they got to their destination in no time flat, for once) and the child was behaving himself as they parked the car at the Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department's parking garage. Maggie was especially grateful that Michael held her hand when she asked him for it and that Ursula did not giggle over her relationship with Nick. However, the possibility of meeting Nick again was making Maggie's stomach twist with pain.
Maggie's nervousness was obvious to Ursula, who saw her pale face when they entered the building and checked with the front desk about Grissom's whereabouts and received their visitors' badges. "Maggie, why don't I take Michael out to find Grissom? The ladies' room is bound to be somewhere. You look horrible enough to stay in there for days."
"I remember," Maggie replied, visioning it a few hallways down. "Yeah, take Michael." She then looked to her son, kneeling and causing her stomach more pain. "Remember, Michael, please behave for Ursula. Be polite to everyone here. They're very nice people."
Ursula snickered – possibly recalling Maggie's troubles with Ecklie and Mobley, Maggie thought to herself – and took Michael's hand. The child himself did not protest and followed his mother's friend down another hallway. However, Maggie herself felt like throwing up badly. Her stomach had done a few flip-flops and was pushing her breakfast up already.
She got up from her kneeling position at the front hallways and ran to the ladies' room quickly, almost knocking into someone at the door, reaching her toilet just in time. Good God, can I control anything? I mean, I'm just here to see Grissom. What's wrong with me?
"Hey, there, I thought you were done with that a few years ago," a voice behind her said, the same person who Maggie bumped into. "Or, am I missing something here?"
The person was also holding onto her black hair as Maggie finished throwing up, a few minutes later. After she had wiped her mouth with some toilet paper (It's all thin still, as usual), she turned to the person she bumped into, finding Catherine Willows smiling back at her, still wanting the answer to her question.
"Oh, my God, Catherine!" was all Maggie could say as she jumped up and embraced the older C.S.I. The two almost fell to the floor, but kept their balance, still sitting on the cold, tiled floor, however.
Catherine returned the embrace with hesitation at first – she hardened herself, especially after Warrick was murdered and the guilty party was revealed – but then accepted the gesture fully after a minute. "What are you doing here, Maggie?" she asked. "Isn't it dangerous for you to be here? Or, do you like the thrill of being here?"
"Grissom called a few times and…oh, my God, Catherine, it's been rough!" Maggie cried, tears running down her face again. "I heard about Warrick and I had to come back here for the funeral. I had to be here again. I took whatever flight I could and bought a place here and –"
"You're living here again?" Catherine broke the embrace, scratching her head afterward (Maggie noticing that she dyed it…again). "What are you doing to do now?"
"I don't know, Catherine, I don't know." Maggie wiped the tears from her face. "It's one step at a time, I guess. I needed baby steps." Looking back at the unflushed toilet, she added, "I was also just so nervous coming here and I couldn't help it."
"Nick," the older C.S.I. plainly stated, making Maggie shudder almost (Catherine most certainly saw a slight shiver). "Maggie, to be truthful…he's been a basket case since you've left. He's regretted everything he's done to you and has been trying to contact you for a few years now. I don't know what this will mean to him now that you're back in Vegas…"
Maggie shook her black head, showing a surprised Catherine how much she had aged. What had happened to her? Grissom said she was in some tough spots here and there, but did not mention anything else. What's going on with her? What's Nick going to do now?
"I need to see Grissom now." Maggie got up, suddenly tired, her legs shaking. Catherine got up with her, to make sure she didn't fall down again.
Nick would appreciate it…and then want to know this sometime. He's been wanting to see her for some time now. But, I can't tell him just yet. Losing Warrick like that, his best friend…we all felt this loss just as much as he did, especially Grissom. God, Maggie is going to be at the funeral. I know it. What can I do?
"He should be in his office, or outside of it, at least," Catherine offered. "The last I saw, he was with Ursula Kearns and your son."
Maggie was about to exit the stall, but then stopped in his tracks, turning back to face Catherine. "How did you know that?" she asked, confused and surprised at the same time.
Catherine just shook her head and smiled again. "Sometimes, word gets around the lab pretty fast. Don't you remember that? Or, did you forget everything already?"