Lost in thought, Lindsey passed the time from school to home in perfect silence. She remained oblivious to the happy chatter of her companions, preferring the contemplative solitude and constancy of her thoughts. However, her friends’ joviality no longer roused restlessness and its accompanying temper; she realized that, day by passing day, the sense of her father’s presence was slowly leaving and taking away her anger at his death.

On this particular traversal homeward, she listened to her friends’ collective excitement for the upcoming holiday of sorts and, for the first time in weeks, she found herself wanting to join them. She found, also, that her innate inclination for artistic endeavors was gradually returning; the desire to create was gradually returning.

Not completely understanding the course of her thoughts, in a move far wiser than the decade of years she was, she tucked the unfamiliar sensation of returning to life in a corner of her heart, trusting it to reveal itself in the future.

Finally, she arrived at home and immediately felt rewarded for the lack of violence during the school day: she saw her smiling mother sitting on the front steps of their house. It had taken time to understand that her proclivity for fighting had surfaced, in part, to deal with the loss of her artistic abilities. This had followed Uncle Gil’s gentle observation that her inability to express herself artistically was an extension of her grief over her father’s death. The kindness of that specific conversation had completely changed the relationship between her mother and herself. On one level, Lindsey knew she was moving beyond grief into acceptance; on another, she felt the perpetual ache of loss; in a far different arena, she secretly acknowledged the decreasing need for her mother’s approval.

Though on this day, with the heat of day pouring its full strength over the desert, she needed it. And, the only way to receive it was to ask the very question on her mind. Lindsey ran up the front walk and gave her mom a hug. Knowing that Catherine had to go to work soon, she suggested they get some ice cream at the newly opened parlor around the corner.

Lindsey ordered a strawberry cone, while Catherine chose a vanilla smoothie. They sat down side-by-side on a bench under the front awning of the eatery, and Catherine noticed that her normally talkative child was quiet and fidgety.

"Mom," Lindsey began forgetting her cone, "can I ask you a question?"

The seriousness of the tone, the hesitancy, brought fear to the forefront and Catherine cursed the tapestry of life that brought such a tone to her daughter’s soul so early, or even at all.

"What’s the matter, Honey?"

"Nothing really."

"So what’s with the seriousness?"

"Next week is ‘Take Your Daughter to Work Day’. Can I go with you to work?"

"You know I work nights." She watched the light slowly fade out of her daughter’s eyes. Intelligent investigator she was, the thought that there was more behind the simple request itched in her mind. Yet, there were logistics to consider. "Do you think you can stay up?"

"If I get to spend time with you, I’ll stay up as long as I can." The eagerness all but swept the dark cobwebs of doubt away.

After a slight pause, Lindsey got up and gave her mother a tight hug. She did not see the tears threatening to fall from her mother’s eyes. Once finished with their snack, they left the parlor and strolled back to the house, and Catherine readied for work.

As Catherine walked out the front door to her Tahoe, Lindsey thought her mother had forgotten their earlier conversation, but she pivoted on her left foot and said, "Honey, I haven’t forgotten your question. I’ll ask Gil tonight, okay? Now, give me a kiss and be good for your Aunt Nancy."

"Okay, Mom. Promise you won’t forget." She looked Catherine dead in the eye. "Pinky swear?"

"Pinky swear. I’ll see you in the morning."

Catherine worked steadfastly through her assigned cases, but Lindsey’s question gnawed at the corner of her mind. She made up her mind to go see Grissom at the end of her shift. When her footsteps finally brought her to Grissom’s office door, she noticed that he was feeding his myriad of insect companions. She loathed to interrupt his quiet time, but she knocked and was bid welcome. She took a deep breath and asked quickly.

"Gil, can I ask you a question?"

"Does it involve bodily harm?"

"When has that ever stopped you from answering me?"

Grissom smirked but replied honestly, "I’ll answer the best I can."

"Well," Catherine paused, collected her thoughts, and continued. "Lindsey wants to come into work with me on ‘Take Your Daughter to Work Day.’ Will that be alright with you?"

"It’s not completely against regulations, but we work the night. Do you think she can stay up that long?"

"I already asked her that; she said that if she stayed around me, she’ll stay up as long as she can. Sometimes, I think that she’s more mature than I ever was at that age."

Catherine mentally kicked herself and groaned aloud; she just set herself up for one of Grissom’s words of the wise. Maybe, this time, he would refrain. Her luck did not hold.

He quirked an eyebrow and intoned, "Remember each subsequent generation becomes more aware of man’s evils, and every child born must find creative ways to combat them."

He gave her a long, considering look. She would never know what he discovered in those few minutes, but all that mattered were the words of approval he gave. "This isn’t the best place for her, but she wants to be with you. Lindsey can come."

"Thanks, Gil. I appreciate it." Perhaps it was his words or the allowance, or even the tone; whatever it was, Catherine suddenly missed her friend. So as she left for home, she tossed over her shoulder: "Come to dinner soon?"

Her glanced showed he shared her smile.

Catherine crept into her daughter’s room and noticed Lindsey hugged her battered strawberry pillow with a tiny ladybug on it. She thought over Grissom’s words, and then she understood. She understood that her child needed to be around her as a way of healing. When Catherine kissed Lindsey on her cheek, Lindsey stirred, and a smile grew on her face. The little girl woke and saw her mother hovering above her with a wistful smile.

"Hi, Honey. Sorry to wake you."

"It’s okay. I was going to get up early. Today, we’re going to start making picture frames in art class."

"Really? That sounds like fun. What do you want for breakfast?"

"Can I have cereal? The one with no marshmallows in it."

"You want Kix?"

Lindsey nodded and replied, "Yes, I want Kix." She indulged in a moment’s hesitation before the natural courage and strength of a child drove her. "Did you ask Uncle Gil if I can go with you to work?"

"Gil said it’s okay."

Lindsey whooped and threw her pillow in the air. "Thank you, Mom."

Catherine’s smile grew broader. Between the comment on picture frames and her daughter’s contagious desire, she felt a brighter future was in store for both of them. Still grinning, she stood and walked to the door but stopped when Lindsey called out, pure curiosity peaked her own interest.

"Mom, I had a dream about a ladybug. Do know what that means?"

"I don’t know. We should look it up in a dream dictionary. We’ll do that later, okay?"

"Okay." Lindsey sighed contentedly. She felt happy for the first time since her father’s death. Even though she knew it was not her fault, she felt that she was missing something, but she realized in heart that things were looking up.

Lindsey awoke excited on the special day. She would be going to work with her mother, and she would see all of her "Uncles and Aunts." When she told her teacher what she would be doing today, Mrs. Smith said that she would not have to come to school; Lindsey replied that she wanted to go to do some more work on her art project.

As she dressed, she remembered a dream that she had the night before. She was eating ice cream, and then four insects came by to play around her. The dream made her smile, because it made her happiest in a long stretch of time.

Day finished and night starting, Catherine readied for work, while Lindsey packed her book bag with things she would need during the night. She placed coloring pencils, erasable pens, and number two pencils into an orange-colored pencil case with a green MOUSE saying, "I love to draw." She added her notebook, coloring book, a video tape, a change of clothes, and her strawberry-shaped pillow into the bag. Then, Catherine called to say she had ten more minutes and gave a gentle reminder to pack her toothbrush, just in case.

They arrived at CSI headquarters just as shift was slated to begin. The rest of the graveyard shift criminalists were waiting in the break room to receive their assignments. Lindsey sat quietly in the corner until cases were handed out in typical shortened abbreviations and secret codes. After which, everybody gathered to give Lindsey a hug, and Catherine asked everybody to take turns watching over her throughout the night. All agreed, and Catherine took Lindsey to see Greg hoping he could also take a turn.

Everybody scattered, and Lindsey was left in Greg’s care. She sat in the break room in full view under his watchful gaze and wrote in her notebook about what she had seen thus far. She noticed a man walking by who looked a like a boy in her grade. She asked Greg during a break who he was, and he told her that he was Archie, the audio/video technician; she wondered if she would be able to see his lab.

After brewing his special blend of coffee, Greg joined Lindsey in the break room as Warrick and Nick returned from the field. Nick and Greg talked about the brand new ‘Grand Theft Auto Vice City’ video game, while Warrick and Lindsey caught up on school.

Suddenly, a twinkle appeared in Warrick’s eye, and he motioned Lindsey to come closer. Unnoticed by the other two, they whispered back and forth between themselves. As Lindsey giggled, she rose, found her notebook under a pile of files, and handed it to Warrick, who quickly jotted down a few words.

Warrick abruptly interrupted the other two and asked Greg if he wanted to bet.

"If you win, I’ll buy you any game you want. If I win, you’ll have to wear one of Nick’s creations on your head while yelling out this phrase," and he waved a folded sheet of paper, "whenever someone says your name for the rest of shift. VERBATIM."

Brass, Catherine, and Grissom walked into the lab and heard raucous laughter. They peered around the corner and saw Greg wearing an aluminum foil cone-shaped cap with Christmas tinsel streaming from the tip of the cone. They were all taken aback for a moment, and then Grissom hesitantly queried, "What’s the meaning of this, Greg?"

Greg screamed without preamble, "YOU’RE AN IDIOT, STARSCREAM!"

High pitched laughter was heard within the room. Catherine saw her blond-haired angel wink at her, as she clamored over the low sofa. Lindsey gave her a hug, while explaining in hushed tones the unusual event.

Catherine did a perfect imitation of Grissom’s famous raised eyebrow and asked companionably, "How have you been doing, Greg?"

Greg repeated the outrageous comment and was rewarded with more laughter from Warrick, Nick, and Lindsey.

Ever the voice of reason, Grissom broke through the jovial haze as he stated, "Okay, that’s enough. Back to work".

Everybody except Catherine and Lindsey left the room. Greg paused on his way out to shoot Lindsey a glare and to blow a raspberry. Catherine sat down on her haunches before her daughter and asked how she was doing.

"I’m doing okay, Mom. I’m having fun, and I’ve written a lot of things in my notebook." Clear blue eyes shone with enjoyment, cheeks pink from laughter, words stumbling and breathless from the same; Catherine silently thanked Grissom another hundred times for this instance.

"That’s good, honey. I’m sorry that I can’t stay with you longer, but tonight’s a little hectic. I have to go back into the field, will you be okay?"

"I’ll be alright." Again, there was a token of hesitation before Lindsey continued. "Where next?"

"Aunt Sara is going to take care of you next."

"Okay, let’s go and see her."

As Catherine stood up, Lindsey tucked her pen and notebook under her arm. They walked to the darkened room where Sara clicked robotically. She started when Catherine tapped on the open door.

While Sara and Catherine’s work relationship had improved by degrees since Eddie’s unsolved case, there was no telling Lindsey’s current view on Sara. On one hand, Lindsey may understand the lack of evidence; on the other, she may associate Sara with the open-ended result of her father’s case. There was also the independent variable of Lindsey’s age. Either way, neither had seen the other since those uncertain days.

"Hey, Catherine." Came Sara’s automatic response. Then she saw Lindsey. "Hey, Lindsey. How are you doing?" Catherine and Sara had agreed beforehand to allow Lindsey to set the stage.

And Catherine had never before felt prouder of her daughter. Lindsey greeted Sara with a cheerful, innocent smile. "Hi, Aunt Sara, I’m having fun."

Knowing her daughter was in safe hands, Catherine did not follow her daughter into the room. Instead, she gave a shrug and commented, "Hey, Sara. I have to get back to the case, I’ll see you guys later."

Sara nodded and wheeled another chair over to the computer console.

"What’re you doing?" Lindsey wanted to make sure the contents on the computer screen were not - sensitive.

"Well, I’m checking my email. I received a funny one from my friend. It’s a moving cow drinking a KAMIKAZE."

Lindsey studied the picture with her artistic inner eye. Finally, she offered, "The cow looks funny."

Sara gave the girl a grin and sent the picture to the trash. Again, from her earlier discussion with Catherine and another with Grissom later, she wanted to take her time with Lindsey to restore and to explore anything remaining from their last encounter. Even if it meant procrastinating on her case.

"So, what do you want to do?"

"Well, my friend gave me a website that has a dream dictionary in it."

"That sounds like fun. What’s the address?"

Sara felt no qualms using lab resources for Lindsey’s benefit. All for the good of the world, she figured. They spent an hour perusing through the list of dream objects on the site. Lindsey wrote down some definitions in her notebook, and then asked Sara to bring her to the break room for a while.

They sat at the long table, and Lindsey began to color while Sara perused notes on her case. The two drifted into an easy silence until Grissom arrived to replace Sara. When Sara left, Grissom fell into the seat at the head of the table; Lindsey crept to Grissom, and crawled into his lap.

As always, his arms fell comfortably around her tiny body. "Hi, Lindsey. How are you tonight?"

"Hi, Uncle Gil. I’m a little sleepy, but I like coming here."

Inept as he was with people, he heard the silent desire for a private confidence as loud as a grandfather clock’s hourly chime. He stroked the length of her blond hair, an action as natural as breathing when it came to Lindsey.

"So, want to tell me why you’re really here?"

He felt her hot tears.

"Promise you won’t tell Mom?"

He sighed. "Sweetheart, you know I don’t keep secrets from her. Not anymore."

Eyes - wide, luminous, and still teary - pulled at his heart. "I know."

And, right before his own eyes, he watched the little girl, whom he knew since birth, metamorphose into a stunning young woman.

"I know, Uncle Gil." She took a deep breath before spilling her heart. "I wanted to come because I wanted to thank you. I couldn’t think of another way to tell you that. Everybody called Dad bad names since he died, but you didn’t. Not you and mom. And it made me angry that everybody else did. Uncle Gil? I’m not angry anymore. I’ve kept my promise to you; I stopped fighting." Her eyes became eager, earnest. "And I’m painting again!"

He pulled her deep into his arms, trying to show her how proud he was. Words never suffice in situations like this, but he tried anyway.

"Lindsey, I’m very proud of you." He kissed the top of her head. "I love you like you’re my daughter, sweetheart."

Although he said those last words quietly, she heard and tightened her arms around him. He knew that was the love missing from her life and vowed to always give his to her.

She dozed gently in his arms while Grissom’s mind flew back in time to an evening a few weeks past.

It was after his surgery, when the hospital released him to Catherine’s care for forty-eight hours; after that, he was free to be on his own. In the meantime, he was at her mercy.

He was sprawled on her couch, sleeping off the rest of the anesthesia when a small shadow drifted over his eyes and tiny hands tried unsuccessfully to lift his head. Propping his eyes open, he saw Lindsey with a small pillow in hand. Another tug and Grissom obediently lifted his head so she could slip the pillow underneath it.

More he could not do, so he gave a small, honest smile of appreciation. She ran her fingers through his hair in gentle motions; he remembered thinking she was so sensitive a soul. He hated the pain life already gifted to her.

She whispered, conspiratorially, "Mom’s in the shower."

So he made a concerted effort to stay awake; instinct told him Lindsey had something to say.

When she shied away from his inquiry, he stayed her with a light touch. "What’s on your mind, sweetheart?"

"I can’t draw anymore."

Like writing fed the souls of the authors he frequently quoted, Lindsey’s talent in the art department did likewise. If she could not fulfill the need, she would probably turn to other avenues to vent her emotions. He was right.

"When I can’t, I fight. Mom doesn’t say anything, but I know I shouldn’t. Uncle Gil, I can’t stop."

Instead of an immediate answer, he drew her into his arms and she knew she had done the right thing in confiding to him. He did not judge her; he did not condemn her behavior; he merely accepted her. She knew, in her heart, he would make things right; he always did.

So she continued. "I want to stop, but I don’t know how." Then she cried, huge tears that fell quickly yet silently, and left her a pleasant shade of exhaustion.

He felt her plea in every fiber of his physical and metaphysical body. For the first time in his life, he felt the righteous need to protect her - like a daughter of his own self.

"Sweetheart, it takes a lot to confess that. I love you for that." He felt her delight in his words when she shifted into a more open position in his arms. "Look at me. I want you to see the truth of it." She looked and smiled; he knew she would understand the words he was going to say.

"Lindsey, I doubt you’ll understand completely what I’m going to say right now, but in a very short time, I think you will. I think you still need to give yourself time to grieve over your father; you can’t just pick up and resume your life like it was before."

Her eyes grew grave and slightly frightened. "What do I do?"

He sighed, hating every minute of this conversation. He hated that he even needed to be having it; he wished he was a stronger man. "There’s nothing you can do. You just need to let him go."

"But he’s my dad!"

"I know, sweetheart. And believe me, I know - without a doubt - if he had another choice, I don’t think he’d leave you."

"Why did he?" A little girl’s angry plea; she sobbed out the words.

He merely held her until she pressed him for an answer. Sometimes she was far older than her age; sometimes she reminded him she was only a little girl.

He gave her the only answer as he knew it. "So he could be your angel, guarding over you. Sweetheart, I know that you know your mom and dad didn’t get along very often. But know this, he loved you and he probably knew, and made the choice, of leaving your life now, in order to keep you safe in another way."

It was the right answer.

"What do I do now, Uncle Gil?"

"Let the anger go, Lindsey. Everything will change, but it’ll be for the better." She nodded, entirely trusting him. "Just remember, your father loves you and he’ll always be watching you. Remember that?"

Again she nodded. Then she climbed onto the couch to join him in the slumber that dogged at his eyes.

Just before he fell asleep, she whispered, "Will the drawing come back?"

"Absolutely."

"I trust you." Silence blanketed this tiny moment. "Will you ever leave me?"

"No, sweetheart. Not unless you want me to."

"Good."

He fell asleep and Lindsey promised, with all her heart, to remember his words. Later, she left the sanctity of the couch and wandered into her room. The frustrated evidence of a soul unable to express itself lay strewn over her desk. Slowly, she picked out her sketch pad, the appropriate pencil; then she opened her box of priceless treasures and singled out a photograph.

Taken at her most recent birthday, it featured her mother and Grissom, both in snappy leather jackets and smiling. Lindsey closed her eyes and gripped the pencil, and her hand flew. It traced the image within her mind and transplanted it onto the rough texture of the sketch pad.

When she finished the rough sketch, she held it up for an impartial inspection. Giddy, though her heart was, she questioned the graphite man seriously. "I don’t want you ever to leave. Will you be my dad now, Uncle Gil?"

He dropped out of his reverie when Lindsey shifted in his arms. The pull in his neck muscles reminded him that there was a more comfortable couch in his office. A well-placed prod brought her to awareness.

"Why don’t we watch our movie, and then you can finish your nap on the couch in the bug zoo?" He grinned when she giggled at their private reference to his office.

"That sounds good, but, Uncle Gil, can you do something for me?"

Grissom looked quizzically into Lindsey’s clear blue eyes, and raised his eyebrows.

Lindsey continued. "Can you make a flower and a butterfly out of paper for me?"

Grissom was still confused and asked, "Why?"

"I want to put the flower on Dad’s grave, and the butterfly above my bed."

Grissom contemplated the requests and said, "Let me find some paper, and I’ll teach you how to fold them."

Grissom taught her how to fold the paper into the delicate objects. When they finished, Lindsey kissed Grissom on the cheek, and gave him a hug as unspoken thank yous. She clamored down from the chair and placed the origami into the front pocket of her book bag. She then brought out her toothbrush, pillow, and her videotape.

She called out, "I’m ready, Uncle Gil." She showed him her toothbrush, and he brought her to the restroom so she could do her nighttime habits.

Grissom settled Lindsey on the couch and left to wheel the combination tv/vcr into his office. Lindsey handed him the videotape, which he popped in. The first screen shot of the movie showed that it was "A Bug’s Life." Lindsey turned to Grissom, and she said, "Thank you for buying it for my birthday. I’ve watched it almost a hundred times."

Grissom smiled at this exaggeration and put his arm around Lindsey as she cuddled next to him.

Catherine searched the break room for her daughter, but she could not find her. She looked in the restroom and was borderline panicked, when she realized that she should ask Greg, because he always knew the comings and goings of the lab. As she approached Greg, she could not help but smile to herself.

"Hey - you. Have you seen Lindsey?"

Greg turned around and looked grateful at the fact that Catherine had not called out his name.

"Um, yeah. I think they went into Grissom’s office to watch a movie, because I saw him wheeling the tv in."

"Okay, thanks - Greg." Although she was relieved to know where her daughter was, she could not refrain from saying his name one more time, and then she heard the hilarious phrase from him.

"Sorry, I couldn’t help myself."

"Ha ha. This is the only time I haven’t liked working here. Everybody wants to be a CSI. They catch on really quickly when they realize that I have to say this ‘thing’ when they say my name. I shouldn’t have lost the bet."v

"Don’t worry. It should be okay. Shift’s almost over."

Catherine patted Greg on his shoulder and walked away to find her daughter.

She knocked softly on Grissom’s door, but nobody answered. She opened the door a crack and noticed Grissom and Lindsey were sleeping sitting up on the couch. Catherine suddenly had tears in her eyes as she watched the two of them. She did not want to wake them up, but she wanted to get her baby home so that she could sleep more comfortably.

She gently shook Grissom awake and was rewarded with a smile. She tilted her head toward the sleeping child and whispered in his ear.

"I should bring her home."

"Yeah. What time is it?" He washed his hands over his face to break the lingering remnants of sleep.

"Shift’s almost over. I’ll wake her and bring her to the break room so that everyone can say bye to her."

"Okay." He shifted his gaze to the sleeping girl, and he loathed to wake her. "I’ll carry her."

"But -"

"It’s okay. Don’t worry. I’ve held kids before."

Catherine shrugged and acquiesced, while Grissom picked Lindsey up and gently held her in his arms as they started toward the break room. The movement caused Lindsey to wake and she cried out softly, "Mommy?"

Gil paused, and Catherine answered, "Shh, baby. I’m here. We’re going to say bye to everybody and go home."

Lindsey just nodded her head and nestled herself deeper into Grissom’s grasp.

The two adults resumed their course. Catherine followed Gil with Lindsey’s things and packed up her book bag. Meanwhile, the crew gathered in the room and each said quick good byes to Lindsey.

As Grissom picked Lindsey back up in his arms, Catherine said her own farewells to the crew and walked with him to her Tahoe. After settling Lindsey in the backseat, Grissom felt a tug on the front of his shirt. He looked down and saw that Lindsey was looking at him. She said, "Thank you, Uncle Gil."

"You’re always welcome here, Lindsey."

"Can I ask you a question?"

"I will try my best to answer it."

"Will you come to dinner soon?" Sleepy eyes valiantly fought against the body’s natural tendency for rest.

"Okay." Grissom said smiling; he found the sight near charming.

"Uncle Gil, you have to pinky swear."

While Grissom swore his pledge with a pinky, he felt another tug on his shirt, this time at the back. Grissom turned as he closed the door with a question on his lips.

"You know, I NEVER THOUGHT, I’D LIVE to see the day when Greg loses a bet," said Catherine.

Grissom smirked as he walked Catherine to the driver’s side door. She started the Tahoe’s engine, rolled down her window, and called out, "Dinner soon, okay?"

Grissom just nodded and waved his hand.

Grissom dutifully bought the groceries dictated to him by Catherine for dinner at her house. He was allowed to bring one additional item as a reward for following orders. He walked up the sidewalk of Catherine’s house carrying the bags. Just as he set them down to ring the bell, the door suddenly flew open. He saw Lindsey grinning with delight that he actually showed up. Grissom was about to reprimand the young girl about checking to see who was at the door, but checked himself when he saw how happy she was. Catherine also came to the door and helped Grissom bring the food into the kitchen. Lindsey gave Grissom a hug when his hands were empty.

Catherine asked what he bought as dessert, and he smirked. He dug through one of the bags and showcased a large chocolate cake with sprinkles on it. Lindsey crowed with joy, while Catherine pretended to chastise him about his purchase.

Dinner was barbeque on the back porch. They ate while laughing at jokes and remembering fun times. Lindsey suddenly got quiet; ever observant, Catherine noticed and asked about the behavior change.

Lindsey answered, "I hope Greg isn’t really mad about the bet."

"He was at first, but he’s happy now," replied Catherine.

"What happened?" asked Lindsey.

"It turns out that everybody on the nightshift pitched in and got him that new video game anyway. Now, he wants people to bet him, but nobody really wants to," said Grissom.

"That’s funny. I’m glad Greg is okay. Mom, can I get dessert now?" asked Lindsey.

"Okay, Honey. I’ll go with you."

"Um, wait. I have to go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back."

Grissom followed her retreat with a befuddled, concerned look. "Hmm, that’s odd. I wonder what’s come over her."

"Don’t worry," said Catherine.

He brought his gaze to her and was fascinated with the play of pride, love, and joy glowing over her face.

In short order, Lindsey came back, carrying a small wrapped box. The two adults looked questioningly at each other. Lindsey shyly handed the box to Grissom and said, "Happy Father’s Day."

Grissom gingerly took the box and unwrapped it. Inside was a frame that contained a picture of the three of them from Memorial Day with small bead in each of the four corners. Upon closer inspection, he noticed that Lindsey sat between them with her fingers in a SIGN of "I Love You." Emotions raced across his face, as he examined the gift further. He realized that each of the four beads contained a different insect painted on. At this point, Lindsey was hopping on her feet and she exclaimed, "That’s a bee, that’s a butterfly, that’s a ladybug, and that’s a dragonfly."

She then urged Grissom to turn over the frame and proudly said, "I also wrote a poem for you."

He turned the frame and spotted the poem printed painstakingly in pen on the back. It read:

Never Question a Dream

I had a happy dream.
I was eating strawberry ice cream,
And four bugs came by me.
The dream made me feel free.

A dragonfly flew by my earring
    This means changes are coming.
A ladybug crawled by my shoe
    This means good luck is coming to you.
A butterfly fluttered near to join the fun
    This means happiness in friendship and transformation.
A bee buzzed by and did not object
    This means I am well-organized to succeed a project.

You know that my dad went away.
Everything’s changed, but I’m starting to feel okay.
Thank you for being there for Mom and me.
Your friendship means everything, you see.
You’ll always be wise and true.
That’s why I made this frame for you.

He looked at Catherine who was slightly confused but also emotional. He searched Lindsey’s face and voiced a heartfelt thank you while handing the gift to Catherine, so that she could also admire it.

Grissom felt his heart TREMBLE with emotion as he realized what all this meant. With a few amazing words, Lindsey asked him to be her father, though in spirit only. He also knew she was not asking him to replace her father; rather she hoped he would merely stand in his stead.

He knew nothing in the world would make him happier. Without a word, he knew how to accept her heartfelt need: Lindsey and Grissom hugged.

In the hug, Lindsey realized why her anger had slowly dissipated after her conversation with Grissom. She had fought because she simply missed her father. When she confided her thoughts to him, she had felt peace and discovered she already had another father - although not biological, of course - in her life. While her real father was overlooking the care of her spirit and future, the one in her life now would nurture her mind in the present.

Then she finally understood those foreign feelings of that one afternoon; for the first time in her life and unfortunately not the last, she moved through the process of grief, in all its stages. The pain from the past released her and the future was indeed promising to be a bright affair.

FIN