AN: This is it, my first completed fanfic!! I hope you enjoy the humor in this little number.
There was only one CSI on graveyard who didn't know about the Grissom kids, and each of those who did know thought they were the only one. Sara slept peacefully, snuggled in Grissom's arms in a hotel room. Catherine had insisted that the two take their anniversary night off and let Lindsey take the kids for the night. An old contact of hers had gotten them a nice room at one of Vegas' finer hotels. Both husband and wife were relishing the break from their responsibilities. They were jolted from their rest by the shrill ringing of a cell phone. Gil rolled over and grabbed the phone.
"Grissom," he said groggily.
"Sorry to wake you, but we've got a body here which calls for your expertise."
"Jim! Not tonight. It's my night off," Grissom complained, running his fingers through Sara's hair. She smiled idly up at him and snuggled closer, resting her head on his shoulder.
"I understand that, Gil, but we're kinda swamped," Jim pleaded. Sara reached for the phone.
"Jim, I want to spend one night alone with Gil without bugs or blood or dead bodies, 'kay?" She snapped the phone shut, then kissed Gil. He kissed her back and wrapped his other arm around her, pulling her into a gentle hug. She began planting little kisses along is neck. The phone rang again and both were tempted to ignore it.
"He'll just keep calling, Honey," Gil whispered between kisses. He took the phone from her hand and answered it.
"Brass, I really don't want to come in," he said.
"I understand, Gil, but we really, really need you to." Grissom groaned.
"Where?" he asked. Sara hit him gently on the chest. He looked down at her apologetically.
"Thirty miles east of Vegas out in the desert. Body with bugs, lots of them. Bring Sara," he added with a chuckle.
"A couple of hours and we'll be right back here, I promise," Grissom whispered between kisses. Sara rolled her eyes and kissed him again, rolled out of his arms and off the bed, reaching for her work jeans. Grissom got dressed as well, and soon they were on their way to their crime scene.
Three hours later, Sara and Gil drove up to the hotel ready to sleep. Gil wrapped his arm around Sara's waist and she leaned her head on his shoulder. Then they saw the extraordinary amount of police cars and pulled apart. The police department was a tight knit community and both criminalists were well known. Sara was the first to spot the Denali.
"Griss," she whispered, pointing to the SUV. He sighed as well.
"Shall we just turn around and head home?" he asked. Sara wanted to say yes, but she knew that anything they had seen that night would be considered relevant.
"Let's see who Cath assigned," she said logically. As if she had been summoned by Sara's words, Catherine Willows walked through the front doors at that very moment.
"Sara, Grissom, I left the lab strict instructions not to call you in tonight," she said.
"I know, but Brass called. We just finished an evidence collection for him and were planning on going back to our room."
"Well, if it was on the sixth floor I can't let you. Double homicide in 622." Gil and Sara exchanged a look.
"What?" Catherine asked.
"The secret will soon be out."
Greg Sanders grabbed the DNA report off of the lab laser printer. He took one look at it and paled.
"Wendy, please tell me this is a joke or that the system has gone wacko," he said. She gave him a withering look.
"I wouldn't joke on a night like tonight and this system doesn't go wacko," she snapped defensively.
"Then I guess the world has gone wacko," he said. He practically ran to the layout room, where he found Catherine Nick and Warrick hard at work.
"DNA is in and the world continues to get weirder and weirder,
"Spit it out already, Greggo!" Nick said.
"Four distinct donors on the bed, two male, two female. Number three is the vic and four is the unknown male."
"You skipped a couple," Warrick noticed.
"One and two are Gil Grissom and Sara Sidle." Greg's statement received no reaction except for three half smiles and a couple raised eyebrows.
"What are you guys not telling me?" Greg asked.
"Secret," all three answered at once.
"Wait," Catherine said, "You two know?"
"If you're referring to the Bugs then, yeah, I've known for almost three months," Nick said.
"I've known for over three," Warrick boasted.
"Man, I've only known for a month," Catherine admitted. Greg waved his arms.
"I still don't know," he whined. His three coworkers exchanged glances. Catherine shrugged her shoulders, then smiled deviously.
"Well, now we know who was supposed to be in that room. Have fun at the interview," Catherine said, scribbling the address on a piece of paper.
Greg Sanders thought he was seeing an angel when the door opened. She was tall and willowy, with long sandy colored hair and deep brown eyes.
"Can I help you?" she asked, studying him warily, breaking his reverie.
"Sara Sidle…" he stuttered, "with the crime lab." He took a deep breath.
"I'm Greg Sanders with the Las Vegas crime lab. I need to speak with Gil Grissom and Sara Sidle." The blonde flicked her hair and giggled.
"They aren't here. Mom told them to crash at our place. You can't exactly celebrate your anniversary with these bugs in the house. Sure, Mattie sleeps through anything, but those two girls have ears like bats and it's like they sleep with their eyes open. I can barely watch a movie without Sydle crawling onto my lap. Imagine trying to-"
Greg shuddered. "At this point, I'm actually trying not to. I'll need your address and, if you're willing, maybe a phone number?" The girl laughed. She grabbed Greg's notepad and wrote down the address, the grabbed his hand. She wrote on his palm, hiding it from view, smiled at him then closed the door.
"Yes!" he exclaimed. He looked down at his hand. Look it up under C. Willows. Suddenly his face fell. He had just hit on his supervisor's daughter. Her teenage daughter. Tonight was not his night.
Greg drove to the house. The rest of the night crew, including Gil and Sara, stood waiting for him. They explained the situation and passed around photos of the three Grissom kids, affectionately code named "the Bugs."
"So," Greg said, studying a picture of Sy and Mattie covered head to toe in mud, " guess you could call them Nightshift's 'Dirty Little Secret'."
AN: So, there it is... Please tell me what you think, and if you have anymore questions, message me, I'll try to answer them.
THANKS FOR READING!! CATE