Warrick parked his Denali in Catherine's driveway. He was thankful that Brass had assigned Detective Vartan to come with him. Brass's reasoning for including a higher ranked officer was due to the nature of their task, calling on people with news such as theirs was never easy, complicated by the late hour, members of the public tended to act warily. A detective's badge tended to calm rattled nerves.

Warrick sucked in a breath between his teeth, gently rocking on his heels, hands in his pockets, more due to him not knowing what to do with them, than to him being relaxed. He was far from relaxed, he'd not had time to process in his own mind the evening's events so far, yet here he was having to explain them to Catherine's friends then her daughter.

Vartan cast him a brief glance, "You okay?"

Warrick shifted slightly under his gaze, lifting his right hand to run it through his hair, letting the breath he'd inhaled hiss out between his teeth, "No, not really. But we need to get to Lindsey Willows."

Vartan nodded in agreement, before pressing on the doorbell of Catherine's neighbour. They waited for what seemed an eternity until they saw the hallway light flicker on, one of those power saving bulbs that took several seconds to emit their full light. They heard shuffling footsteps, the sound of a chain being drawn across the door, before three locks were released and the door gingerly opened.

"Yes?"

"Mrs Williamson?" Warrick tentatively asked.

"You know me, so what do you want?"

Vartan more used to this sort of situation decided to take over. "Mrs Williamson, I'm Detective Vartan, my colleague here is CSI Warrick Brown." He passed their two I.D.'s through the small gap in the door. "Feel free to call the station to verify our details, we understand this late hour must be of concern."

The door was closed. The two men stood on the porch step studying the light as it attracted a series of moths. They only waited a few minutes, and then they heard the scrape of the chain as it was removed from the metal bar that held it.

"I'm sorry officers, it's just you can't be too sure these days."

Warrick smiled at the elderly lady before him, her silver/white hair held in curlers, a pink robe wrapped tightly around her body, plaid slippers on her feet. "That's quite alright Mrs Williamson, we're sorry we disturbed you at such a late hour."

He was greeted with a kindly smile that seemed to light the old lady's green eyes. "Now what can I do for you gentlemen?"

"We understand you have a key for your neighbour Catherine Willows' house." At the old lady's nod, Vartan felt he needed to explain further, "I'm afraid we need to get into Ms Willows's house, unfortunately your neighbour has been involved in an accident and we need to contact her daughter."

At the mention of the accident, Mrs Williamson let out a small gasp and raised her hand in front of her mouth. "Oh my. That poor little angel." She rushed off down the hallway, They heard a couple of drawers being scraped open then closed before she returned, a key evident in her hand.

Detective Vartan, reached out grasping her hand with his, as she looked up at him, tears apparent in her eyes, he knew he couldn't just leave her and take the key. "We'd welcome your help...I mean ...if, that is, you feel comfortable, you could come into Catherine's house and help us find out where Lindsey is?"

Mrs Williamson patted the hand that held hers. "Sure. I'll just let my husband know where I am." She turned, releasing her hand from his grip and grasped the banister railing at the foot of the staircase, lifting her left foot onto the first step, she took a deep breath and shouted up the stairs, "Stan, Stan honey, I'm just going to Catherine's next door. I'll be back in ten minutes."

Returning her attention to the two gentlemen in her hallway, she smiled, gratefully hooking her arm through the one the young detective offered her. She kept tight hold of the key in the palm of her hand and let Warrick lead the way to Catherine's door.

"Stan's going to be upset when he hears about this. Young Lindsey has been like a granddaughter to him. Ever since he had his stroke last year, she comes by once a week and sits with him. They've been reading all the old classics; well Lindsey's been doing the reading. They're right in the middle of Treasure Island. He brightens up when he hears her voice. She used to come and take our spaniel Digger for walks, up until when he died, three months ago. The three of us would often go off to the park, Stan in his wheelchair, Lindsey taking turns pushing him or running with Digger on his lead. Her visits give me a chance to get some of the chores done. Catherine's been wonderful too I know she has a lot in her life, but she's always coming over checking on us, making sure she's available if we need anything." She paused, patting the detectives arm, "I'm sorry, it's just...just such a shock."

"I know, don't worry, I'm sure they'll both be fine."

Warrick interrupted them, "Mrs Williamson, could I have the key please?"

"The key? Sorry, yes of course." She passed him the key that she'd been gripping, only realising the warmth it had conducted when she released it.

Warrick quickly pushed the key into the lock and turned it. His heart thumping within his chest, it was as if by opening the door he broke a spell. He was fully expecting to be mown down by Lindsey launching herself at him, while Catherine stood laughing at the surprised look on his face. But that didn't happen. This house, Catherine's house, was strangely silent. He felt uncomfortable, an intruder, an uninvited guest. He quickly shook his head to banish these thoughts from it, he needed to regain his focus, remember why he was here in these familiar surroundings that suddenly seemed alien. He reached to the right, pushing on the light switches he knew were there. Illumination didn't help his mood. He wanted to be out of here as quickly as possible.

As if sensing his hesitation, Detective Vartan sought to help his colleague."Do we know where the details are?"

Warrick snapped his head to the side to face him, pointing vaguely to the interior of the house he managed to utter, "Girl's name is Laura, I think the number is on the refrigerator."

"Why don't you stay here, watch the door? I'll go with Mrs Williamson to find it."

"Uh, thanks." Warrick's hands returned to his pockets. He turned facing out from the house, gazing out at the driveway.

Mrs Williamson led Detective Vartan through the house to the kitchen, flicking a light switch on as they entered it. She stood back as the detective went to examine the refrigerator. What was once a large white door was covered with an assortment of photographs of Lindsey and Catherine, a child's artwork, a written report with a large red A in a circle and numerous fridge magnets.

Vartan went towards it, smiling, if nothing else this basic kitchen appliance showed the love between mother and daughter. He bent slightly at the waist, his eyes examining the different pieces of paper attached to its front. There under a large purple magnet in the shape of a capital L was a white piece of paper torn from a notebook: Laura - 555 4576. He snatched the paper from beneath the magnet smiling. "That's it."

Mrs Williamson and her detective quickly returned to Warrick, switching off the lights as they moved through the house.

"You got it?"

"Yeah." The detective held up the piece of paper as evidence. He then turned to Mrs Williamson. "Thank you, Mrs Williamson, for your help. Now we'll just lock Catherine's door so you can have the key back, then I'll see you to your door."

As they returned the old lady to her porch, she held out a hand stopping Vartan from leaving, "I don't mean to be a burden, but..." She let out a small sigh, "Do you think it would be possible for someone to let us know how they are, Catherine and Lindsey?"

The detective smiled, "Of course, it won't be a problem, if I could just jot down your number, and I'll give you my card, should you have any worries or concerns you can give me a call, the number's right there."

Having collected the old lady's telephone number and assured himself that she was secured behind a locked door, Detective Vartan made his way to Warrick Brown's Denali.

Warrick sat behind the steering wheel watching the detective talking to Catherine's neighbour. He was grateful for the presence of this colleague tonight. He was used to meeting people after the news they had dreaded had been delivered. He thought that was a minefield to negotiate at the best of times. But now, having to be the one delivering the news it seemed a thousand times worse. He didn't seem to be able to summon the right words, at a loss as to what to say. He hoped, no wished the detective would be the first one to contact Laura's parents. He seemed more confident, more at ease. He knew what to say that was clear; maybe it was because he was more practised in this sad art.

His thoughts turned to Catherine's daughter, Lindsey, maybe by the time they got as far as the house, as far as facing Lindsey he'd have found those words that seemed now to be absent. He couldn't let her down. Let Grissom and Catherine down. Let some stranger deliver the news. He needed to summon the words from somewhere. Above all, he needed to summon the courage to face her.

The door of the Denali opening let in the cool night air. "Sorry, I needed to get her number so I could let her know how Catherine and Lindsey are. She's a really sweet old lady."

"Not a problem."

"Have you called Laura's parents, or do you want me to?"

"Do you mind?"

"No. Hey don't worry about it, I'm used to doing this. I can imagine how you're feeling; I've seen you working with Catherine a few times. It's hard when it's someone you know."

"Thanks."

Vartan pulled his cell phone from the inside pocket of his jacket, quickly dialing the number on the piece of paper he'd retrieved. He waited, counting the rings until he heard;

"Hello?"

"Hello, I'm sorry to disturb you. I'm Detective Vartan from Las Vegas Police Department, do you have a Lindsey Willows staying there?"

"Err... yes. Why?"

"I need your address ma'am. I'm afraid Lindsey's mother has been involved in an accident and we need to get her to her mom."

"Yes, oh...um...I'm sorry. Err...our address...right...uhm... 163 Campana Drive."

"We will be over right away, Mrs...?"

"Crathorne, I'm Lauren Crathorne."

"Okay Mrs Crathorne, we should be there within fifteen minutes. I'm bringing someone with me; Warrick Brown, Catherine works with him. Lindsey knows him really well. It might be better if he were to break the news to her."

"Yes...okay...I'll be waiting for you."

The detective quickly returned his cell phone to the security of his pocket, and then fastened his seat belt as Warrick slowly started to reverse down the driveway.

As they approached Campana Drive, Warrick switched on the flashing lights. He caught the glance his passenger offered him and felt the need to justify his actions. "Hey, I thought it would be for the best, you do realise the sort of suspicion, two men, driving slowly in a strange SUV at this time of night in this neighbourhood would cause, don't you?"

Vartan smiled, "Yeah, I bet they'd have local officers out here faster than if they'd been woken at three by some car alarm."

Warrick chuckled, "That's right."

He slowed the vehicle, allowing the detective to slowly cast a beam of light from his torch at the numbers on top of each garage door, "157...159...161...163, this is it."

Warrick reversed the Denali, before bringing it back in front of the house to rest neatly by the curb. He glanced up at the new surroundings, a relatively new model silver Mercedes in the driveway, this was one of those neighbourhoods were such a vehicle could be left outside without fear of interference. The house itself was a two storey fairly modern design; double fronted with large bay windows either side of a colonial porch. A light was evident in the right bay window, the shadow of a figure standing watching the driveway.

As the two men walked towards the house, the figure moved from its place at the window. As they approached the porch, the door was opened to reveal a woman in her late thirties, long blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, wearing navy sweatpants and a teal T shirt.

"Detective Vartan?" she asked shakily.

"Yes, and this is Warrick Brown."

As if to prove their identity, the two men offered her their respective identity cards. Giving them a cursory glance, she quickly returned them to their owners. "You'd better come in. If you'd like to wait here, I'll go and collect Lindsey, no doubt the girls are still awake engrossed in some video." She offered a weak smile, before ascending the circular staircase.

Warrick bit his lip, waiting nervously, a sick weight resting within the pit of his stomach. He studied the top of the staircase trying to anticipate any movement, foresee the moment when he would blow apart Lindsey Willows' world. He heard the gentle knock on a door, a muffled conversation, followed by footsteps, moving closer, coming towards the staircase. He tried to keep his face open, not betray the events, but he appeared to be a failure.

The footsteps belonged not only to Lauren Crathorne, but a girl of Lindsey's age, who by her resemblance to the older woman could surely only be Laura, beside her was Lindsey.

Lindsey stood at the top of the staircase, momentarily frozen, before her in the hallway was Uncle Warrick and a man in a suit. This couldn't be good, she was expecting to see her mother, coming to check on her, reassure herself after seeing some horror. Instead Uncle Warrick was here, that meant something had happened, something bad. She needed to be strong, not worry anyone, and become invisible so she could hide away if necessary.

Warrick watched his friend's daughter as she made her appearance, the initial flash of worry that covered her face on seeing him was quickly replaced with a smile then a squeal, "Uncle Warrick, what are you doing here?"

Lindsey launched herself down the staircase, flinging herself into his arms, winding him slightly with the force of her contact.

He smiled, "Hey Lindsey, your mom sent me to come and collect you. She needs to see you. She's sorry to break up your sleepover, but it is important."

Partly because she did not want to have her friend witness her break down, partly due to her wish to delay the inevitable bad news, as if by not hearing it, it wouldn't be real, it would have a chance not to be true, as if reality could be changed, Lindsey didn't question any further. She turned running upstairs, soon to return holding an overnight bag close to her chest.

"I'm sorry to go Laura. I was having a really good time, but my mom would only ask me to go to her if it is really, really important. I'll ask her if you can come over next week and we can watch the film again."

"That'd be good Lindsey. I'll see you at school tomorrow, you'll still have lunch with me, right?"

"Yeah. I'll see you then."

Detective Vartan once again found himself being restrained, as Warrick walked, his arm around Lindsey's shoulders to the Denali. Mrs Crathorne quickly sent Laura to the bay window she'd been stood at and in a hushed whisper asked the detective, "Is it bad?"

The detective nodded his head, "I'm afraid so."

"I know from Lindsey that her aunt is out of town. If she needs anything, a place to stay, somewhere to come and rest, please don't hesitate to call me. I'd be more than happy to help out." She thrust a small card into the detective's hand.

"Thank you, Mrs Crathorne. We'll certainly keep that in mind. I'm sure both Catherine and Lindsey will be grateful of your offer. I'll make sure you are kept informed of Catherine's condition."

"Thank you." Mrs Crathorne, slowly closed the oak door, and entered her lounge to watch her daughter's friend being driven away.

Warrick sat in the rear of the Denali next to Lindsey. When Vartan had returned to the vehicle, he'd simply handed him the keys, no words spoken. It felt right to be here next to the small girl. He looked down, she'd reached her hand across to encase his fingers, he glanced up towards her face, and two blue eyes like saucers were staring back at him. He noted her bottom lip quiver slightly, he needed to say something, try to offer some explanation, some cause of comfort. He took in a deep breath maintaining her gaze, "Lindsey, I know you realise that it must be serious for me to come and collect you. I'm not going to hide anything from you. You can ask me anything and I'll try my best to answer it."

"Where are we going?"

"The hospital." He felt the grip of her fingers tighten around his, "You're mom was shot tonight. She was doing her job, we don't know why, or by whom. I just know that right now I need to get you to the hospital."

"Is it bad?"

Warrick nodded, half whispering, "Yeah, I'm sorry."

Lindsey's eyes held his, to his surprise she half smiled then confidently replied, "Don't worry Uncle Warrick, she promised. I mean after daddy died, she promised me she wasn't ever going to leave me on my own. My mom doesn't break her promises. You'll see she'll be fine."

Warrick attempted a smile in return; wishing the confidence his companion bestowed would become a reality.

The rest of the journey was made in silence. As they pulled into the hospital parking lot, Warrick offered Lindsey a weak smile and a squeeze of the hand. She returned the actions, before opening the door and waiting for the two men to lead the way into the building.

They seemed to walk along endless corridors before they found the waiting room. A series of blue plastic chairs arranged in a U shape, hugging the walls of the enclosed space. The one free wall was devoted to a drinks machine, a snack dispenser and a window affording a view of the corridor. The centre of the room contained a low table covered with a selection of old magazines, their corners curled evidence of their age.

The room was deserted apart from a figure, arms resting on his knees, hands clasped in front of him, head hung low. As the door opened, Gil Grissom raised his head slightly. They'd told him it would be some time, she'd need surgery, if a nurse or doctor was entering his refuge then it could only be bad news. If it was a patient's family member, he hoped they'd prefer the stoical silence he was currently enjoying. His eyes widened, he tried to control his features as Lindsey Willows appeared in the doorway. Her features trapped in a serious gaze beyond her years, which vanished upon catching his eye.

"Uncle Gil." She quickly covered the distance between them, coming to a brief halt before him then wrapping her thin arms around his neck and enfolding him in a hug.

He moved his arms from the position he'd held them in since he'd been led into this room. Bringing them behind Lindsey, hugging her to him, relishing the love she was currently bestowing.

His head was buried within the mass of her hair as he softly spoke, "I'm sorry, so sorry Lindsey."

Hearing his words she pulled back, giving him a quizzical look, much like the ones her mother would impart at one of his frequent lapses into haikus. "Why?"

"I should have stopped..."

"Gil, there's nothing any one of us could have done. Catherine was in the middle of doing her job. A job she loves. There is no way you could have known this would happen." At these words, Gil became aware of Warrick's presence. Lindsey turned in his arms, determined to settle herself on his knee as they waited.

"Don't worry Uncle Gil. It's like I said in the car, mom promised me after dad died that she wouldn't leave me alone she won't break her promise. Not to me she won't."

Gil pondered the determined words she'd uttered. What Lindsey hadn't taken into consideration were the events that occurred shortly after Eddie's death when Catherine had come to him. She'd been shocked into realising the fragility of life and had asked for his help. It had been just before he'd gone to Jackpot, or as Catherine called it `on safari'. He allowed himself a small smile at that memory.

"Gil, do you have a minute?"

He looked up from the magazine article he'd been engrossed in, to witness Catherine, leaning halfway into his office, her position held by her arms gripping the doorframe. He raised an eyebrow, a slight smile playing around his lips, "For you? Yes."

She'd entered his office, closing the door behind her, then taking up residence in one of the chairs opposite his desk. "Okay, this might seem weird, and don't feel you have to say yes, I just think it would be good for both of you."

"What?"

"Err...I thought this would be easier to ask. No you couldn't, wouldn't. Forget it, sorry." She paused running her hand through her hair, and then shaking her head, her eyes casting down to the floor.

Gil contemplated his next action, before he'd really given it due consideration, he reached across the desk, grasping her hand, his body leant across the desk, his face serious, no hint of mockery, he brought his other hand up, to enfold both of their hands. "Catherine," he paused waiting for her eyes to meet his in their eternal battle for dominance, "I've always found it best to let the person decide for themselves whether the answer is yes or no, rather than answering for them."

Her eyes flickered momentarily, the fire returning to them briefly, before they softened. Allowing her hand to be restrained by his she took a breath, "Would you be Lindsey's guardian?"

"But?"

"I didn't say that right, sorry. What I meant was if something were to happen to me, you know." She paused her free hand tracing the faint line of the scar she'd received the previous year, when the house hadn't been cleared. It was barely visible to the eye now, easily concealed by make-up, but to her mind it was still fresh. "Lindsey's been having nightmares again, about the night... that night, in the car." She sighed, "It's led me to accept my own mortality. I need to make arrangements, and I need to ask you if you would be prepared to be her guardian."

"Why me? I'm not..."

Catherine's expression changed, to one of almost nervousness, "I know it seems weird. If it's the cost of care, don't worry; all my insurance will have you and Lindsey as beneficiaries, so you won't have to concern yourself with that."

"Money is the least of my concerns. I don't understand why you'd choose me, not your sister."

Catherine sighed. "As I said before, I think it would be good for both of you. I love Nancy, she's a fantastic sister, I know she cares for Lindsey, but she's been trying for another baby, her husband is climbing the promotional ladder, it's only a matter of time before he gets transferred to California or Michigan. If something were to happen, I don't want Lindsey shipped off somewhere, where she has no friends, to join a growing family. She'll need her friends, she'll need attention, I'm not sure, if Nancy has a new baby, she'll get all that attention. There's another thing that I've needed to consider, Sam Braun." She watched his face, his eyes widened slightly at the mention of the name, his lips opened as if he were to interrupt her, but he seemed to think better of it. "Well, you are aware he's more than a family friend. Ever since he's accepted I'm his daughter, he's been trying to contact me, leaving messages on my answer phone, calling me here, sending a couple of letters." At Gil's look of disapproval, she quickly added, "Don't worry, I've not talked to him. I don't want him in my life, I have to accept he'll always play some part but I want it on my own terms. I certainly don't want Lindsey to know him. I know you, I trust you to stop him, prevent him from having any contact with Lindsey. Nancy doesn't understand, she can't accept my refusal of him; she thinks he could be the answer to all my financial problems. She doesn't understand how it makes me feel, if I were to accept him in my life, it'd be like stepping back twenty five years to when I was dancing, like watching Stephanie and the other girls with their sugar daddies. I think I'm worth more than that."

"You are."

His words surprised her; she'd not expected him to comment, that's not why she'd dispensed her feelings. "Thank you." She smiled half shyly at him.

"Now that's something we don't often see."

"What?"

"A bashful Catherine Willows."

She giggled, relieved at the ease with which his teasing banished the tension from the room. "I meant what I said, She'd be good for you, drag you from your townhouse, if that's what you call it. Bring you out into the world."

Gil smiled, "Is this another of your attempts to bring my head out of the proverbial sand?"

She smiled, her voice softened, "I think you'd be good for her too, a guiding influence. I trust you, value your judgment. I wouldn't be asking otherwise. I only want you to consider this if you think you can do it. If it's not you, I've someone else in mind so don't feel obligated due to our friendship, or whatever this is between us."

"Okay, can I give you my answer now?"

"If you are sure."

"Let me start by saying I'm honoured, Catherine. Truly to have you trust me with something so special, is both unexpected and a compliment. I honestly don't know what sort of parent I'd be; I've never had cause to contemplate that position. How could I refuse this request?"

"Thank you." She grinned at him.

"However, there is one condition."

She looked at him; worry etching her features, "Yes?"

"We need to make sure Lindsey will be happy with this. She's an important part of this; I think we need to take into consideration her feelings. Give her the available choices before we make it a formal agreement."

"Okay, that's fair. When do you want to do this?"

"This weekend?"

"Sounds good. And thank you Gil, thank you for even considering this." She brought her hand that was still encased by his up to her face, and the softly kissed the top of his hand in thanks.

The picnic at Lake Mead had been a relaxing distraction from their normal frenzied lives. They'd waited until they had their fill, and all three of them were sitting in the welcome shade of a tree. Lindsey leaning back against her mom, whose arms were around her, Gil sat next to them.

Catherine squeezed her daughter a little tighter, "Lindsey, you know you've been asking me questions about your dad, and him dying."

Lindsey twisted in her mom's arms to face her, "Yeah."

"Well, I've been having to think about things too."

"What sort of things?"

"Well if something happened to me, I have to decide who will take care of you."

Lindsey's voice trembled, "You're going to leave me. I'll be all alone."

"No Lindsey. I promise I'll never leave you all alone."

Lindsey hugged her mom. "But... why do you have to decide who'll take care of me?"

Catherine started to unconsciously stroke her daughter's hair, while pondering her answer, "When your dad died I had to talk to your grandmother, and make sure she had times when she could see you, but everyone thought the best place for you to live was with me. Your dad died when he still had so much life left to live, it was unexpected. Now I promise I'm not going to do anything dangerous, but if I was hurt, or something happened to me, everyone would need to know who we wanted to have look after you."

Lindsey looked at her mom somewhat unnervingly in the eye. "Who will, mom?"

Catherine caught her breath slightly before replying, "Well I want you to help me decide. I've thought of three people we could ask, I've asked two of them already, they are both more than happy to have you. But I want you to give me your honest answer. There's your grandmother and Grandpa Willows, your Aunt Nancy and Uncle Gil."

Both Catherine and Lindsey were surprised by the voice beside them, "I think this is my cue to go for a walk. That way you two have a chance to talk about this, without worrying about my feelings. I'll be back in half an hour." He knelt before Lindsey, "Lindsey, I won't be hurt if you don't choose me. I want you to do what your heart and head tell you. I will always be your Uncle Gil, I'll always be around if you need me, even if you want to live with your grandparents or aunt." He offered the two of them a smile before wandering off to walk along the lakeside.

He'd returned duly after half an hour. He'd never admit to anyone but as he saw his best friend, still sitting with her daughter in the tree's shade, the butterflies invaded his stomach. He knew right then, he wanted to be a part of Lindsey Willows' life, he hoped she'd accept him. He was determined to have more afternoons like the one he'd just spent. It felt so natural to spend time in this way. He couldn't bear to comprehend losing a member of his team again, that had been so difficult when Holly had died, and she'd barely been known to any one of them. To think of his friend of over twenty years, his anchor in their daily lives, being lost was not something he willingly contemplated, but if she were to be lost to him, to them, then he wanted to remain in Lindsey's life, so much part of her mother, she would no doubt ease the pain.

Walking much like a condemned man, he managed the short distance to the tree with a smile on his face. Sitting down next to them, he didn't dare start the conversation. Waiting for Catherine, taking the safe option.

"Did you enjoy your walk?"

"Oh, yes. You should try it sometime." He smirked back, another of their battles started, she'd set down the challenge, and he'd retaliated.

"Mom?"

Lindsey reminding them of her presence saved them. "Yes, you can."

Gil looked on puzzled at the exchange between mother and daughter. Amazed at their ability to communicate in some form of hybrid English.

Lindsey came and sat in front of him, her face serious. She crossed her legs before reaching out her hand to take his, "Uncle Gil, mommy has promised that nothing is going to happen her. But for some reason she wants a name of someone to look after me, if she were to have an accident. I've thought about all the people she knows, and all of my family. I've listened as mom has explained the reasons for her choices, and I agree with her decisions. We've talked about all three of you and I know who I'd like mom to put on that piece paper. So Uncle Gil if something were to happen to mom would you look after me?"

"I'd be honoured."

His reply was rewarded by bear hug from Lindsey. As her grip tightened and he was almost being strangled, he started to tickle her, gasping in a breath of air as she released her grip mid giggle.

Lindsey looked up at him, blue eyes, battling his, "So, does this mean I get to name your next spider?"

Gil, glanced quickly to Catherine wanting to catch her reaction, "Yes, but you know that means by naming it, you will be responsible for it, you'll have to take care of the spider for the rest of its life." Catherine's grimace was reward enough, he quickly added, "So we'll have to make sure you come by the lab more frequently."

They'd enjoyed the rest of the afternoon, taking a walk along the lakeside, Gil delighted in pointing to each insect they came across, imparting his knowledge on the species to Lindsey. He was aware of Catherine maintaining a slight distance every so often, as if she was watching them. He wondered whether she was questioning her decision to put her daughter, her most valued blessing, in his care. He got his opportunity as Lindsey chased a butterfly ahead of them. He dropped back to join Catherine. "Second thoughts?"

She'd laughed, "No, of course not, I was just thinking how fortunate I am to have such a wonderful man as my friend."

He'd taken hold of her hand, revelling in this moment of closeness.

"You know she didn't want to even consider her relatives. As soon as you left, it was you she said she wanted to be with. You've had quite an impact on my daughter. I had to talk her through the choices of her grandparents and aunt. According to Lindsey her grandparents are too old, and although she loves Nancy, she thinks she's too fussy, it appears that my sister's a neat freak. But you apparently are cool. Thank you."

"There's no need to thank me. I'm honoured to held in such esteem by the Willows women."

They walked on a few more steps, their hands still held. "Cath?"

"Yeah?"

"I've really enjoyed today. I mean spending time with you and Lindsey. I was thinking, well wondering really, if you'd like all three of us to do this again. I mean if I'm going to be Lindsey's guardian, I really ought to know her a little better."

"I'd like that. I'm sure Lindsey would too."

He'd then been pulled away as Lindsey had spotted a pond skater, so he returned to his kindly professor mode.

Lindsey, shifting slightly in his lap, broke him from his reverie. He glanced down at her, "How are you doing Lindsey?"

"I'm really sleepy."

"Why don't you wait here with Uncle Warrick? I'll see if I can find you a blanket and pillow, then you can take a nap until the doctor comes."

"Okay."

Gil left the waiting room, heading for the nurses station. He arrived to find the same dark haired nurse who'd directed him to the waiting area still on duty. She looked up from the records she was reviewing, sensing his approach, "Mr Grissom, I'm afraid there's been no news yet. I promise as soon as they've finished in surgery I'll get someone to come and talk to you."

"Thank you..." he glanced at her name badge, cursing inwardly the cruelty of the fates, "Kathy." He tried a smile, but wasn't entirely sure the shock at realising the nurse's name wasn't evident. "I was wondering do you have a spare pillow and blanket? Ms Willows' young daughter has arrived and I would like her to be able to rest, as it may be some time before we hear anything."

Kathy smiled up at him, "I understand, just wait here a moment." She bustled away down the corridor, entering a door half way down. She reappeared a couple of minutes later, a pink hospital blanket with a small pillow on top, in her arms. "Just bring them back here, before you leave this floor." Another smile.

Feeling slightly more at ease, Gil managed a more convincing smile before offering his thanks.

He entered the waiting room, putting the pillow on one chair, and then encouraged Lindsay to lie across several chairs, before tucking the blanket around her.

Warrick looked on in awe. He'd rarely seen his supervisor in such a paternal role. He had no doubt now that Gil would be able comfort Lindsey, and take care of her. His role was now redundant; he'd serve the team better by helping to gather the evidence. Satisfied that Gil had finished settling Lindsey, he'd let a small cough escape his lips, "Gris, I think it'd be best if I went and helped Nick and Sara. Will you be okay here?"

Gil looked at his younger colleague, "Yes, we'll be fine. I'll call if we have any news. Oh and Warrick..." The younger man stopped, mid step, "Be careful, remember I want you to have a helmet and bullet proof vest on at all times."

Warrick nodded, before leaving the waiting room and starting his journey back to the source of this tragedy.

TBC