Gil Grissom sped through the streets of Henderson, wondering what the `worst thing' could be. He had arrived at work and was in the process of passing out assignments when Catherine called.

"Grissom." He answered.

"Gil? It's Catherine. I'm at the corner of Fir and Center and the worst thing just happened………" The call abruptly ended in a burst of static. He immediately hit end on his cell and tried her cell phone number. A frustrated sigh erupted when he heard the familiar, yet unwanted. "The party you are trying to reach is not available. If you would like to leave a message………" He punched the end button again.

"Take care of this!" He handed the assignments to Warrick.

"What's up?"

"Catherine." He stated and left the curious group of CSI's to follow his orders.

"Well, she's not dead." He muttered to himself as he pulled to a stop at a red light. "Or, she wouldn't have called." That was certainly número uno on his list of worst things to have happen on the way to work. He felt he could safely rule out Lindsey or any other family members because she wouldn't have begun the conversation like that.

"Kidnapped?" It was a possibility and one he hated to entertain. "No, the call died in static ­ it wasn't shut off from her end. That would have been a cleaner break. Besides, if she had been kidnapped, she most likely would've been forced to call Sam Braun, not me."

"She hit somebody?" He considered as he proceeded. "No, she would've called 911 and I would be sending someone out to process the scene."

"She hit someone's family pet?" He continued to list. "No, if she'd sent Fido or Muffin to the great kennel in the sky, she would've been more upset ­ probably crying."

"What exactly was her emotional state?" He questioned as he remembered the brief static laced conversation. "Annoyed ­ not furious, just seriously annoyed."

He exited off the East Lake Mead Parkway onto Ash then turned right onto Center Street. Fir would be the first major intersection. The streets of Beech, Cedar, Dogwood and Elm ended at Constitution Avenue. He slowed as he approached the intersection, somehow certain she would be to his right. There! Just up Fir he could see her Tahoe, lights on, and tilted to an odd angle.

"Must have a flat." He tooted the horn as he passed to find a safe place to turn around. She was rolling a tire to the back as he pulled in behind her.

"Hey!" She shouted.

"What happened?"

"Some Dickhead left a board with nails in it, right in the middle of the damn street. Three tires! I got three flat tires!"

"Three?"

"Yes, three! This has to defy the laws of Physics! Man, what a crap way to start the night! Three flats and my phone went dead!"

"You have a smudge." Grissom explained as he gently rubbed his handkerchief over her right temple.

"Thanks." She mumbled tossing her hair over shoulder in a flaxen spray. "Umm, I put the spare on the front. As I see it, we can either put the spare from the Denali on here, then pull off the other tire or just jack up the other side with the jack from the Denali. What do you think?"

"I think I'm glad you're okay."

"Really? You were worried?"

"Of course. I always worry about you."

"Why?"

"Because………."

Well, folks! This is where the show would end!

Finis!