Catherine loved her job—she was a gossip at heart, one who had to know everything about anything. And she especially loved knowing everything about the people closest to her.

That's how she began to suspect two members of the graveyard shift were sleeping together.

It all started when she'd gone hunting for printer toner in the supply room. And found a black bra stuffed between two boxes of carbon paper. What was a bra doing in the middle of paper? She knew it hadn't been there at the start of shift—she'd had to fetch carbon paper earlier and she distinctly remembered it not being there. So who did it belong to?

She first decided to forget about it—after all she'd had her own fair share of times in supply closets. But as the shift went on, long and boring with no cases, the mystery of the black lingerie ate at her mind. Whose bra was it?

She rose from her desk and started into the hall, covertly checking all the women she passed of the right general size. After all—she didn't want it known that she was checking out other women's chests. She wasn't that type of girl.

It wasn't Judy, or Mandy. Both the wrong size. Maybe Wendy, and Catherine admitted to herself that it wouldn't really surprise her if Wendy was sneaking into the supply closet for some evening fun.

Wendy stood in the hall, arguing with an obviously flustered Hodges. What had she done to the man?

But then again—it could very well be Sofia. Sofia was very flirty; Catherine had seen her flirt with nearly every guy on the shift. Oh, not in all seriousness, as far as Catherine knew, but still flirting nonetheless.

Sofia stood in the hall beside a very relaxed Nicky. Nick was always kind to the ladies, but was it something more with the detective?

And look at Sara. Catherine supposed the evidence could fit the taller brunette. But sneaking off with someone in the lab wasn't exactly Sara's style. And since that whole paramedic thing, hadn't Sara sworn off men? And if it were Sara—who was the guy? Wasn't she long over Grissom? Surely Greg hadn't managed to convince her? What about Bobby Dawson—he was always sweet on Sara?

Sara said hi as Catherine passed her and a very calculating-looking Grissom. What was the man up to?

She supposed she could run a DNA test on the thing—but wasn't that a breach of lab policy? She'd gotten into trouble with DNA and Sam Braun. Probably shouldn't do that.

Catherine finally had an idea. She'd pin it to the bulletin board in the women's locker room with a note saying it was found. She'd not tell exactly where it was found—and maybe she could catch the person reclaiming it.

She pinned it up and then settled into the chair in the corner, watching.

Wendy came in and saw the bra and a slight tinge of pink touched her cheeks. Catherine felt a smug sense of satisfaction. Wendy had been her best guess. The lab rat fingered the bra and with a worried look opened her own locker and rifled through the duffle bag inside. She drew out a flimsy black bra and sighed with relief.

So it wasn't Wendy. But now Catherine knew something was up with her. She'd thought that bra was hers—but where did she think she lost it?

About twenty minutes after the labrat left the detective entered. She opened her locker—though why she still had one in this particular building Catherine didn't know, maybe because she worked so close with the CSI's as liason—and pulled out a folded stack of clothing. Her eye caught sight of the black lingerie and she exhaled a small oh! Before digging deeper into the locker. "Not mine, I thought I'd lost it earlier." She murmured and Catherine recalled how she liked to talk to herself.

So it wasn't Sofia either. But why was Sofia changing into that little dress? Did she have a date? With whom?

After Sofia left Catherine got a little restless and stood up just as the door opened. She quickly darted behind the first shower curtain, praying whoever entered wouldn't choose that stall to shower in. She peeked through the gap as Sara walked up to the bulletin board and removed the evidence. "I've got to be more careful with this."

Catherine's mouth dropped as Sara quickly removed her shirt and replaced the bra that she apparently had been missing. It was Sara's! Catherine never would have guessed it—the physics geek loosing lingerie in a supply closet? If Ecklie knew Sara would be gone in a heartbeat. Oh, this was good, very good. But who was her friend sleeping with? Did Grissom know? Did he care? Was Sara serious? Thousands of questions ran through her mind as Sara brushed her hair in the mirror. Since when did Sara care about her hair? No wonder Sara had been coming to work dressed more nicely with her hair fixed and wearing make-up. But who was the guy?

Catherine's eyes bugged comically as she got her answer. The door opened and a male voice called out, "Sara? I need you, are you alone in there?"

"Yes, but be quiet and get in here." Sara laughed a husky sound that Catherine didn't think the girl had in her. A male shadow passed behind the dark headed woman and it was all Catherine could do to keep from squealing in utter surprise—then utter embarrassment when her friend and supervisor embraced each other with more passion than she thought either geek was capable of. Wow.

Not that she should be surprised—Gil was such a perfectionist in everything he did—surely he'd studied the art of kissing a woman in his fifty years on Earth. But still—Catherine couldn't recall ever being kissed like that and she was slightly jealous.

"Grissom, we really shouldn't do this here. I've told you that."

"Sh. I know. I just can't help it." Grissom grinned with a boyish charm that Catherine couldn't help but smile at. Sara couldn't resist either. "So I see you found it. Where was it?"

Catherine watched as his fingers ran under the front edge of Sara's tank top, dipping just underneath the shell of the black bra.

"Pinned to the bulletin board. I've no idea how it got there." Sara glared at him when he laughed wickedly. "Seriously, Grissom. How would I ever explain how—or where—I lost it?"

"I'm sorry, but how did it get in here? I distinctly remember taking it off of you in the supply closet."

Catherine's mouth dropped and she quickly covered it with a hand. Grissom? No way would he EVER do such a thing—at least not in a supply closet.

"I haven't a clue. But it has to stop. No more doing it at work. Not anymore. I mean, how would I explain this? It's one thing for Greg to have found my sweater behind the couch in your office—where you threw it last week—but someone found my bra in the supply closet."

"Ok, no more. I promise. Just one more time—we've never in here, you know."

Catherine's eyes widened in horror as the two leaned closer for more heated kisses. She watched as Grissom leaned the girl up against the locker, watched as Sara wrapped one leg around his hips, stared as his hands moved knowingly over her sides and behind.

She relaxed in relief when Grissom's pager went off and he left to answer it, followed shortly by Sara.

No way. Geek love at its worst.