I was in my office when the calls came in, two of them at the same time, which is never a good sign. Nick was first, they were bringing in a body, another bad sign; they usually have me go out to them. Though not as often these days. Gil rang second; and he didn't seem to appreciate being put on call waiting. He wanted to know how his autopsy was going. I told him it was going swell. He didn't appreciate that either.

Nick and the body arrived with a great deal of noise; the paramedics heaved the body onto the slab. I would have glared but Nick distracted me, he seemed to think he'd brought me an early birthday present.

"What's so special about him?" I asked, turning him over, noting the needle marks on his upper arm, the strange bruising patterns on his skin and the obvious - a gunshot wound to the chest.

"Three different possible causes of death," Nick explained.

"Gun shot wound, drug over dose and...?" I trailed off.

"Internal damage caused by the fall."

"What fall?" I asked. This was getting complicated.

"Our friend here jumped, or was pushed, off a building."

"Before or after he was shot?"

"That we don't know," Nick explained.

I sighed, I was right; it was going to be one hell of a day.

I limped over the bench I had been working on and retrieved the autopsy. "Bring this to Grissom," I told the CSI as he left. He saluted. I sighed again.

Several hours later I was still not that much closer to concluding anything. The bullet wound had nicked the heart, lodging itself in the spine and causing internal bleeding. But it wasn't something that couldn't have been fixed - if he'd got to a hospital in time, and had a good surgeon. The angle of the wound was something I would leave to Nick; it was as though the shooter had been aiming upwards slightly.

Or perhaps, I pondered, he was very short.

I was just weighing the lung when Grissom, closely followed by Catherine, entered.

"What's this?" Grissom asked, waving something in my face. It took me a couple of seconds to recognise it. "The autopsy you asked for," I replied.

Behind Grissom, I noticed Catherine trying not to smile.

"Yes, I know that," he said shortly, "I mean the findings."

I didn't bother to hide my smile, "If you don't agree, you're welcome to check for yourself," I said, gesturing to the body storage.

"How can he have died of a drug over dose?"

I turned back to my lung, Grissom wasn't angry with me; he was just upset his theory had been disproved. And I'd be willing to bet that Catherine's was looking more likely.

"Well that's not my problem, but I didn't note any marks or needle wounds, so you may be looking at smoking or snorting."

Grissom was already moving towards the storage area, Catherine was laughing softly. She covered by asking me what I was doing.

"Nick's jumper, three possible causes of death and as of yet I can't rule out any."

Catherine looked at me with interest, "How come?"

"The bullet only nicked the heart, he probably died of internal bleeding, but I'll need to rule out the other methods before I conclude."

"So you're thinking drug over dose got there first?"

"Or the fall. Nick did say he fell off a building."

Catherine shook her head, "No, he didn't hit the ground, he caught on a safety net belonging some nearby window cleaners."

I nodded, realisation dawning as Grissom came to stand next to Catherine, "That would explain why he only had a broken arm," I thought about it for a second, "Did you say net?" I asked.

"Yes. Why?"

I motioned them at the body, "See the bruise lines, the strange diamond shape pattern, it must be from the net."

Catherine and Grissom both briefly looked over the body, "But if there was a net," said Gil, "does that make it murder, or suicide? Assuming he jumped."

I shrugged; glad I'm not Nick. "We'll have to wait for the tox screen."

Nick arrived a couple of hours after his supervisors left, looking even more cheerful than before.

"Hey Doc, did you pull the bullet out?" He asked in the way of greeting.

"Hello Nick, yes it's right here," I replied, handing the young man a jar with the slug.

"Excellent, you won't believe this but we found this guy's next of kin. Lives in the building he jumped off. So the police go over there to tell them, find the couple arguing, and guess what the old man's holding?"

I shook my head.

"Shot gun, and I'll bet you anything the bullet matches to that gun."

He looked extremely pleased with himself.

"So what are you thinking? Drugged, shot and thrown over the roof? That doesn't sound very smart."

Nick shook his head, "I don't know yet, but I'm going to find out."

"Well," I said, "here's his autopsy report, you might want to take special note of the angle."

Nick flipped pages for a moment before finding what he was looking for.

"15 degrees?"

I nodded.

"Maybe they just pointed the gun at an angle?"

"Maybe," I conceded.

I was on my way back to my car when I spotted them. Well not so much as spotted, more heard. They were not exactly hard to miss.

"Honestly Gil," exclaimed Catherine.

"I'm sorry Catherine, but really."

"I wasn't bothered, why should you be?"

"Because I don't like it when..." what ever Grissom said he said it only to her and I didn't hear, but I did hear Catherine's reply.

"He was going to prison for a very long time, of course he was going to lash out."

I watched Grissom turn towards her. "Are we still on for breakfast?" They were talking normally now, but the car park was deserted so their voices carried.

Catherine put her hand on his arm, "Of course."

"Good night."

"Night Gil."

I shook my head; if I weren't so tired, I would go and beat some sense into him.

Nick was back again, looking like the canary that had just been eaten by the cat. Not literally of course, because I've seen that.

"What's wrong Nick?" Normally I would encourage him go to Grissom, but I knew that he was determined to solve this case without him, and if I didn't, he'd end up talking to Sara.

"Ballistics came back, perfect match. Same gun. No ammunition in the apartment."

I started washing my hands, checking the roster of what had come in last night.

"Just because they threw him off the building, doesn't mean that they're not smart enough to get rid of the bullets."

Three people had come in last night, one probable natural causes, one drug over dose and one that had been found in the middle of the desert. I always love those ones.

"I suppose," Nick conceded, "We're about to interview them, hopefully they'll let something slip and I'll be able to make a break."

I put another tape into the recorder and nodded briefly at Nick, he would be fine. I have a job to do. I pulled out the corresponding draw and hoped it wasn't in a bag, mummified, or horribly decomposed.

It was not, thankfully.

"What are the odds," I muttered as Nick left for his interview.

"Gil, John," I greeted. I had finished the autopsy and left David in charge, one of the secretaries had told me that Brass was in Gil's office. He was, and looked very uncomfortable. I remembered him once telling me how much he disliked things in jars.

"Hello David, what are you doing over here?" John asked me.

"I've finished the autopsy, thought I could use some air so I decided to deliver it personally." I explained handing over the three reports. Grissom started flipping through one while John skimmed the other two.

"All natural causes?" Gil asked incredulously after he'd finished reading.

I nodded my head. "Let it go down in history that it is possible for 68 year olds to have heart attacks naturally, it is possible to take too many sleeping pills and large quantities of alcohol together without help and it is also possible to take too much cocaine and wander into the desert."

"Well we need to mark down this date on the calendar," said Brass and got up, though I suspected he was just trying to use the excuse to leave.

"I guess that means I can catch up on my paperwork," muttered Grissom.

I smiled; I know exactly how much Gil hates paperwork, about as much as I do in fact.

"I'm sure that Catherine will help you," I said with a smirk and quickly left with Brass to escape his wrath.

John and I had barely gone 10 paces down the corridor when I heard my name being called.

"Doc. Wait up!" John continued on, thanking me for saving him the trip. Nick caught up a second later.

"You will not believe it. I mean I've heard some pretty wild stories, but this one takes the cake."

We continued down the corridor. I was quite sure Nick had no idea we were headed towards the exit, he was too busy explaining. "They must think we're complete idiots, I mean..." he shook himself off, and actually got to the point. "Old man says that the reason the gun was out was that every time he and his wife have a fight, he points the shotgun at her, and it's never loaded. Only this time it is."

I was nearly at the front doors, "So how did the bullet get into the son?"

"I'm getting there, and this is the best part. They where arguing about the son - they don't approve of his doing drugs - father pulled the gun on her, and accidentally pulled the trigger. It missed and get this, went out the window and the son caught it as he was sailing past their 15 story window."

I stopped in the middle in the corridor, if that was true it was better than Grissom's death by chocolate. Though I knew it seemed unlikely, one thing I've learnt over the years is never dismiss anything.

"How many stories is the building?"

Nick looked mildly put out, like I wasn't getting the joke, but answered anyway. "30 something."

"If he was travelling fast enough that could explain the angle of the bullet, it entered just below the heart, nicked it and got caught in the spine."

"Wait Doc, you're not seriously believing them?"

I smiled at him. "It's your case Nick, and your job to prove or disprove them." I left him standing there, quite shell shocked and went to find lunch.

Three days later Gil, Catherine and Nick all filed into my lab, they were interested in a death that was not natural causes. I had finished reviewing the body with Catherine and Grissom, Nick had watched and occasionally spoke to David.

"So Nick," I asked, "What did you finally conclude in that jumper case?"

Nick grinned suddenly, "Well would you believe you were right? I went back to their apartment and found a hole in the glass. As I was removing it, the brother turns up and asks me what I'm doing. I explained and he came in, testified that he'd seen his brother load the gun."

I looked up at Catherine and Grissom. Catherine was smiling, Grissom was busy with the slug.

"Why'd he load the gun?"

"His habit, he'd run out of cash, so he loaded the gun knowing that the mother had a nice inheritance, and that the father pointed the gun at her when they fought. However, weeks went by and no news of a shooting came, the guy got desperate, scored one more time and jumped off the building. On the way past the 15th story he caught the bullet meant for his mother and the rest, as they say, is history."

Nick was practically beaming with pride that he'd figured it all out.

"So they charged the father for murder in the second degree?"

Grissom answered this time, "No, because he would have hit the ground and died anyway."

"But he got caught by the net so without the bullet wound he would have lived."

Nick nodded his head, grin spreading, "But he loaded the gun so it's technically suicide. The father's got a hefty fine which the wife paid off - with the money the son was after."

I turned back to the body, noticing Grissom brush his hand against Catherine's as he handed her the samples. She leant over to get something, effectively pushing herself against Gil. She got up, thanked me, turned and left with Nick to take it to the lab.

"Gil," I called as he made to follow.

He turned and looked at me expectantly.

"What happened on Monday?" I inquired with a smile.

He raised an eyebrow at my smile but put on of his own on as he replied.

"She helped me with my paperwork."

My smile grew.

"Could you page me when that's done?" he asked.

"That's my job."

The End.