"What a waste of a brilliant mind." Grissom said as he finished reading Chloe DeCaen's report.

"So, what set her off?" Catherine asked. She was at her kitchen counter, kneading dough for homemade biscuits.

"Unrequited love." Grissom smiled when he glanced up, she had flour on her nose.

"A little more explanation, please?" Exasperatedly, she wiped her hair back from her forehead with the back of her hand, yet still managed to smear flour on her temple.

"Well, the condensed version, she was……a prodigy. She came from a poor background in New Jersey, but graduated with a PhD in Biochemistry from Princeton. She took a post-doctorate position at Yale." He paused, studying the report. "According to her journals, She met and fell in love with a married colleague. He made her all the promises married men do so she helped him with his research in what we now refer to as date rape drugs, which garnered him a position at Harvard. About a year later, She obtained a position at MIT, thinking they would finally be together. In the meantime, he discovered his wife's social connections were now more important to his career than her research abilities. At a party, jointly sponsored by both universities, he rather cruelly ditched her and broke her heart. She coped for a while, started working out, took an interest in fashion ­ anything she thought would please him. Sometime later, He spurned her again. She began stalking him but he was killed in a car accident. About a year later, she attended a conference in New York. She met a guy who reminded her of him. They went to his apartment, had sex then he said something that was the final straw. She went to the kitchen, got a butcher knife, and stabbed him to death in his own bed."

"They didn't link her to him."

"No. She killed again, realized what she was and designed a life to accommodate it."

"How did she end up in Wyoming?"

"As an undergraduate, she joined a trip to the Bighorn Mountains on a research project and became enamored with the place. Anyway, She made a connection with a drug syndicate in LA. She convinced them to fund and supply her lab in an out of the way place then told the locals that she was a grieving widow with a sizeable insurance annuity. Later on, she claimed to be a consultant developing beer recipes for a major beer supplier to combat the growing microbrewery market. That allowed her to explain her lab and frequent absences. She supplied some of the locals with samples as a, ah, `test market'. Still, the most amazing thing is, she continued her research the whole time. There were notes referring to reports supplied by various Dealers concerning the apparent effects of some of her prototypes."

"She used unsuspecting junkies as test subjects?"

"Apparently so."

"Chloe said she recognized us at the scene of Frank Leland's murder. It gives me chills to know that she was watching us." Grissom glanced up, in surprise, which he quickly covered. He hadn't known Chloe had shared that information. He stood up, moved close and slid his arms around her waist while she washed the sticky dough off her hands in the kitchen sink.

"You have flour on your nose." He gently brushed it away.

"Gil, you're avoiding…."

"Yes, I am. Because, we've been watched before and we will be again. There are things we can't change. But, someone, I like and respect, once said `Never doubt, never look back' and although, I find, I enjoy a certain amount of introspection, those were very good words." He brushed the flour from her temple and replaced it with a tender kiss.

"She was two years older than me."

"So?"

"Well, there were times when I could've killed Eddie."

"But you didn't."

"That was because I loved you and Lindsey loved him."

"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned."

"Don't you have anything to do besides quote stuff?"

"Ummm, as a matter of fact, I could carry you off to bed."

"Wha…..?" He hoisted her over his shoulder and headed out of the kitchen. "Are you reverting into some Viking forebearer?"

"Perhaps."

"Don't you need sustenance………for stamina?"

"I think, I have the strength to manage and we can eat later."

"I'm not sure the biscuits will be any good by the time we get back."

"Then, I'll help you make more. `Labor omnia vincit ­ Virgil' which means `Work conquers all things.'"

"You and work!" She grunted as he carried her up the stairs.

"Suum cuique pulchrum est ­ Cicero"

"What's that mean?" She asked as he kicked the bedroom door shut.

"To each his own is beautiful." He gently laid her on her bed then lay down beside her. "And, you are very beautiful." He whispered as he stroked her hair. "I love you."

"No latin."

"When the moon hits you eye like a big pizza pie
That's amore
When the world seems to shine like you've had too much wine
That's amore"

"Jesus, Gil, don't sing."

"What's wrong with my singing?"

"You can't carry a tune and you're usually off-key." Undeterred, he continued.

"Bells will ring ting-a-ling-a-ling, ting-a-ling-a-ling
And you'll sing "Vita bella"
Hearts will play tippy-tippy-tay, tippy-tippy-tay
Like a gay tarantula"

"Very funny, bugman!" She rolled on top of him, smothering any further offering of song on his part with a smoldering kiss.

Finis!