A/N: Okay, this is the sequel to Mouse. Mouse doesn't really need to be read to understand this. I'm hoping to do a final part to this, but only if people are interested, why waste my time when I could be off writing different Sandle fics that people will read? Warning: GSR angst ahead.

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI or any of the characters.

Intrigue

"So, what have we got?" Grissom asked as he glanced around the break room table.

"We know that the victim was dating her brother's best friend. Perhaps that gives us motive: an overprotective sibling trying to protect one of the only things he loves in his life from his deranged friends?" Catherine put forward, glancing down at the folder she had laid open in front of her. "Things got out of control and the wrong person died."

"Alright. That's a theory that we can build on. Anything else?" Grissom said, shifting his eyes over to his other two CSIs.

"Of course there's something else Griss, this is one big casino that we're dealing with. A young, attractive broad is found stabbed multiple times in the chest outside of a local joint, earlier that evening attending a shindig being thrown by the owner who just happens to be her boyfriend. Obviously, the Clyde has something to do with it." Greg rattled out, as two of the faces of his three co-workers twisted into that of utter confusion.

"Come again?" Catherine said as her eyebrows shot up into her bangs.

"Oh no, not this again." Grissom muttered under his breath as he rolled his eyes.

He had witnessed the spiky haired CSI go all code talk on him twice before. The first time was when they were called in to investigate the shooting of a waiter at Lois O'Neil's high-class birthday party. Greg had been given a copy of her book and ever since he had finished the first chapter, he had gained a habit of spitting out lingo from the mob and classic Hollywood constantly. Grissom remembered that day all too well, it was the same day that Greg had insinuated the idea of him being ancient, although he may not had even realized what he had said. He had been referring to money after all.

The second time was about a week ago when Warrick and Nick had passed him in the hall on their way to the print lab. They had stopped to tell him that Greg had gone off of his rocker and was talking in secret code that nobody could understand. Planet whoop-whoop was how Nick had described it. He thought nothing of it until he had run into Greg in the break room and he had given him the 40's definition of the word mouse including the fact that it was a noun, while referring to a sleeping Sara who had taken up refuge on the break room couch. It still bothered him slightly that when he had asked Greg how he knew Sara invited being cuddled, all he got in return was wink and a smile. Surely he couldn't be involved with her. Sensible Sara in a relationship with whacky Greg? It couldn't be.

Grissom pushed this from his head when Catherine had asked Greg to explain what exactly he had just said. Before he could open his mouth, Sara began speaking.

"What Greg said was that this is a big death and that it shouldn't be taken lightly. A pretty, reasonably young woman was found dead outside of a bar, being an obvious guest at the party that was going on inside. And since the event was held by her boyfriend, he is an obvious suspect."

Catherine's eyes widened as Sara concluded the account.

"You understood that?" She asked in disbelief. "You actually understood what he was saying?"

"Yeah." Sara replied shortly, looking over to see Greg smiling at her. "You didn't?"

"No."

"Neither did I." Grissom added. "However, it wasn't a bad theory. We'll have to look into the boyfriend's possible means, opportunity and motive a little more."

"Also, I've got another duke. This shindig was supposed to be the highlight of the year, not to mention give the club back a little accreditation from it's latest fall out of losing some of it's best quins to the Sands." Greg continued, Sara giving him a grin of encouragement. "The dead dame was not only involved with the owner but worked for him. Word is that she was a twirl and was always good for a little hey-hey as long as the price was good. What if the intrigue for a certain customer went too far? What if the boyfriend took her out the back way into the alley at one point in the evening, knowing that it would be empty, and killed her in a jealous rage? I mean, I'd be pretty hacked off if my doll was giving herself away nightly to complete and utter strangers."

Grissom wasn't an expert at Greg's lingo, but he knew a few select terms; and one thing he didn't fail to notice was that when Greg had mentioned the word 'doll' in a possessive way, he had looked at Sara and she met his gaze with such an intensity it scared him.

His worst fears seemed to be unfolding. Sara was with Greg, he was sure of it.

"Another explanation please?" Catherine asked, looking at Sara this time for the answer, knowing that she would be able to give it to her.

"Well," Sara said, a glimmer coming to her eyes, and her attitude brightening. She really enjoyed being the only one who knew what Greg was saying. "Glitter was famed for having some of the best night dancers in all of Las Vegas but a few months ago, lost most of them to The Sands who had offered the girl's a bigger paycheck. The mardi gras party was a final attempt to bring back some business."

"So let me get this straight, the owner's girlfriend was set to work this night?" Catherine inquired, doing her best to keep up.

"Yes," Greg answered for Sara, going back to normal English for the time being. "And since she was one of the club's best dancers who didn't go to The Sands with the other girls, you can bet how many people were lining up to get a dance with her."

"Let's say one of her many 'suitors' went too far and the boyfriend happened to notice." Sara picked up again from there. "In a crowd of roughly one thousand people, it would be overly easy to get someone outside unnoticed."

"The boyfriend waited until his girlfriend's break, and took her out the back, probably shouting his head off in outrage, knowing that no one could rear him with all of the ruckus from the party." Greg took his turn again. He and Sara a were on a roll and they weren't going to stop now. "He get's abusive and she fights back."

"Explaining the contusions on her wrists and throat." Grissom inserted, remembering the autopsy he had attended earlier on that shift.

"Exactly." Sara said.

"He was attempting to brand her, make sure that the obtrusive finks and bums knew that she was his and to stay away." Greg added.

"An odd thing to do since your girlfriend is a hooker." Catherine put in.

There it goes again. Another sign. Grissom had blocked out Catherine's comment as he watched Greg discretely scoot his chair closer to Sara's and place his hand under the table while talking about the club owner branding his dancer. Although there was no proof, Grissom would have sworn that it was over Sara's which was currently resting on her leg. No, he would stop thinking about it. He had to. He had his chance with Sara and it didn't work out. Then why was he feeling so jealous? It was only Greg after all. Surely he wasn't a threat… or was he?

"Anyways, she gets mad, his temper get's worse, and she ends up in a pile at his feet." Sara concluded, pretending to faint dramatically, counting on Greg to catch her. She was not disappointed.

After being helped back up, she stared across the table at her boss, trying to wage his expression. It was bleak and confused, and was that a glimmer of hurt in his eyes? Sara couldn't help but let a shadow of a smile make it's way onto her features.

"So, what do you think big leaguer? Is that a good enough explanation to the twirl who went ta-ta?" Greg questioned, falling back into his Rat Pack squabble.

"Big leaguer?" Catherine questioned, determined to understand everything that was being said.

"Noun. A resourceful man who can handle any situation." Greg replied on his own this time, sending an approving smile at Grissom.

His boss tossed him a short nod in return before standing up. "Greg, Sara, that is a theory we shall have to delve farther into. You two really showed me where you stand today."

He had meant this in more than one way. First and foremost in their suggestion of what may have happened at the scene. It was the most thought out theory he had heard from either of them, or any one else on his team for that matter. He always knew that Sara was a wonderful CSI and Greg, who was still fairly new to the job seemed to be shaping into a splendid one himself. There was no doubt about it, the two had made a perfect team ever since he had assigned Sara as Greg's mentor.

That was the other thing: perhaps they were too perfect. Not only in the work aspect but in the personality and connection one as well. There was no doubt that they were both intelligent and a force to be reckoned with, but also they both had the same sense of humor and the quirky side that just wouldn't go away. Sara was a workaholic and Greg was the type of guy who loved to have fun. She brought out his more serious side but also a sensitive one. He had the ability to pull out her love of a good time and he had the ability to make her laugh; something Grissom himself had rarely ever been able to do.

There were too many signs, and too good of a connection between the two. Deep in the back of his mind he knew that ever since he had listened to Greg say the word 'mouse', he has lost Sara forever. Without another word, he walked out of the break room, leaving his co-workers to stare after him.

"I guess the meeting's over." Greg noted as he looked from Sara to Catherine and back again.

"Well, I'm going to go down to see Doc Robbins. I want a look at those contusions Grissom was talking about." Catherine stated as she stood up and headed for the door.

"See you later Catherine." Greg called after her.

"Bye." Sara added.

As soon as Greg was sure she was out of ears length, he drug Sara over to the couch and sat her down beside him.

"So, how did I do?" Greg asked nervously, hoping that he didn't do anything wrong.

"Greg, that was awesome! There is no doubt in my mind that Grissom gets the point that he can't go off and come running back to me all of the time. I just don't operate like that." Sara exclaimed as she gave Greg a hug of thanks.

Earlier on that week, Sara had enlisted her best friend to help her deal with the Grissom issue. Ever since she had asked him out on a date, he had been on and off about his feelings for her, and Sara, although patient and hopeful, was sick and tired of it. She had given him chance after chance, hoping that one of the many times he would see reason and they would become serious but every time she thought she was close, he bottled up his emotions and locked them away from her.

Knowing that Greg was willing to do anything she asked of him, she had questioned him about helping her give their boss a subtle display of feelings and for him to begin to orchestrate it when the time felt right. She was glad that he chose today. The case they were working on was the perfect way for him to work his charm and show her some subtle enough gestures of love that Grissom would see but Catherine would go unnoticing.

The glance her way at talking about 'his doll' was well executed but the real blow was when he hid his hand from view of them and laid it gently on her thigh. She could tell by the look in Grissom's eyes that he knew what Greg was doing; he was branding her as his own, showing that she was his and off of the market.

The worst part of all was that even though she wanted to play along more than she had, she didn't want to lead Greg on like that. She knew that he could possibly take her gestures in a much more intimate way and get caught up in the feeling so much that he burst right there. She couldn't keep leading him down a dead end road, she had to either initiate the relationship that she knew both of them wanted direly, or for her to make him know that they were never going to go past the point of friendship.

Finally deciding that if she started something with Greg now, he may think that it was still part of the game to show Grissom that she wasn't one of his specimen's to do with as he pleased, and treat her as if he were still just acting, she made a vow to herself that she would wait for just a little while longer, no more than two weeks, and let him know how she really felt. Yes, by the end of the month, Greg and her would be together.

"I know you don't Sara, that why I agreed to help you. You deserve so much more than him." Greg continued, breaking her out of her thoughts.

"I know." She sighed. "I just wish I had realized that sooner.

"No worries doll face, a ring-a-ding-ding dame such as yourself will have no worries finding your geek in shining armor." Greg smiled as he wrapped his arm around her, giving her a wide grin.

"I hope so Greg. And I know for a fact that he'll be a swell Charlie who will woo me into his arms." She giggled, showing him that she could talk his talk.

"No doubt about it, mouse." Greg chucked as she snuggled into his chest, proving his earlier assessment of her.

"Greg?" Sara asked as she lifted her head slightly to look at him.

"Yeah?"

"What is it that you like so much about pallies and coo-coo-chicks? You seems to have an astounding amount of admiration for them. Almost as much as one other than yourself would have for an involvement with someone special…"

The question caught him off guard. Sara knew he liked the rat pack and everything about it because of the classy yet mysterious vibe it sent out, the never ending stream of excitement, and of course, the capital tunes. Was she asking him because she forgot what he had told her? Or was it because she was really hiding the fact that her question was the last part of her statement and not the first? He had a huge love for the crazy way of life that was old time Hollywood, but never enough to match that of his enthusiasm for a meaningful relationship, especially if he was ever able to generate one with the broad who was currently cuddled into his chest.

"Sara, my doll," He said as he ran his hand up and down her side. "The thing that holds me so dearly to the sharp way of life is really simple." He formed his answer in the way of responding not to that of a relationship or his someone special.

"Well? What is this simple thing, Greg?" Sara questioned, placing a misty butterfly kiss to one of the small black hearts, decorating his shirt.

He shivered at the way her lips felt through the material of his shirt as he managed to get out, "The intrigue."

"A pull of desire." Sara sighed as she situated herself so her head was in Greg's lap, making it easier for her to look at him.

"Yes Sara," He said idly as he began running his fingers through her hair. Making sure that it was appropriate and she wouldn't object, Greg leaned down and kissed the exposed part of her collarbone. "There is nothing I like better in life than a little intrigue."