This is a departure for me, I know. But I got the idea/bug, and I can't really help that. There will be a little angst, though, and there will definitely be lots in the sequel which I'm already planning. I guess you could say this is the story that had to happen to set up the nice angst later. Updates will be weekly since I have it all written out already.

______

Greg stared out the office window absently, not really seeing what was outside. Afternoon sunlight illuminated what would have been a lovely rooftop garden, had he not been in a phenomenally gloomy mood. It wasn't in him to be appreciative today, though he'd soon have to plaster on a fake smile and head to work. If he wasn't late, that is. His eyes flicked to the clock on the desk. Yep, definitely late. Resuming his observation of the city beyond the roof, he slumped further into the uncomfortable office chair, one leg drawn up to his chest.

The room was nondescript, roughly similar to offices the world over, except that by some fortunate twist it had a great view of the city. Dirty, crime-ridden Vegas, thought Greg bitterly. The office had little in the way of opulence; no fuzzy-bottomed mahogany penholder set, no gold-trimmed plaques or claw-footed bookcases. No, the office spoke of a different kind of love. Family photographs framed colourful drawings of stick people, a gesture made even more sickeningly poignant by the child's scrawl in their corners. Love you, Daddy!

Greg scowled at his reflection in the window's glass. Everything in the office reminded him of his present troubles, but all he could do was ignore it and brood.

A click from behind brought him back. He hunched his shoulders further and turned to the person who'd just entered.

"All right, Greg, I've got the papers all ready. Sorry it took so long — the copier broke, again. You know how those things are," explained a cheerful man as he crossed to stand behind his desk. He was middle aged, with a smile-creased face and a slightly receding hairline. Greg would've liked him, but for the circumstances that brought them together. He regretted his lack of enthusiasm, so he humored the man with a lopsided grin.

"That's great," he said.

"Now, since the coroner's inquest ruled in your favour, we should have an easier time of it, but the media's already gotten wind of it so they'll want a quick resolution."

Greg nodded again, face tightening.

"I want you to relax, Greg," continued the man, obviously trying to be reassuring. "You have a strong case."

Greg nodded again, face carefully wooden. He felt much like a puppet these days. "Is that it?" he murmured. "I gotta, uh, get to work."

The man smiled at him, holding out the papers. Greg stood up stiffly and took them from his hands, using a pen from the desk to sign them hurriedly. All of a sudden he was desperate to get out of there. Shaking the man's hand quickly, Greg thanked him and rushed out of the building. He checked his watch and cursed under his breath. Definitely late.

______

"Have you heard the rumours?"

Hodges leaned in across the table towards them with exaggerated secrecy. The team was in the break room, having just received their assignments and getting themselves ready for shift. Nick and Warrick were half-seriously betting on the night's cases — Nick was desperate to get back at Warrick for winning the last five. Catherine prepared coffee while periodically slamming cupboards in frustration at being unable to find Greg's stash.

Only Sara took Hodges' bait, though Nick and Warrick raised their eyebrows at each other, grinning tolerantly.

"What rumours?" she asked, ignoring his conspiratorial stance.

"You finally hooked up with Ecklie?" quipped Warrick.

Nick stifled a laugh as Hodges' eager smile turned into a scowl.

"Maybe your fantasies are about Conrad, Warrick, but not mine. More like, Mia's leaving and there's plenty of speculation about her replacement."

"Wait, Mia's getting replaced?" interrupted Warrick. He regretted never having made a serious pass at her, and Nick, knowing exactly what he was thinking, punched him in the arm. Warrick shrugged unapologetically.

"I didn't hear that Mia's leaving," said a slightly more interested Sara.

"Yeah, well that's where the rumours start," continued Hodges with rolled eyes in Warrick's direction. He finally had them eating out of his palm, and who cared if the information wasn't more reliable than a fleeting glance by the lobby security guards?

"It was very sudden, and no one knows exactly why she's going. Bobby thinks it's all a big conspiracy, very hush hush. Some even think she's dead."

Nick immediately scoffed at the idea. "Bobby's not a conspiracy nut, he didn't say that. Now Archie, maybe."

"We'd have heard about that. It's probably something completely normal, like a transfer," said Catherine from across the room, glaring at Hodges for spreading such ridiculous stories.

"Well!" he sniffed, "I have it on good sources that her replacement might be from Internal Affairs, sent to check up on our department, 'cause of...you know."

At this Sara stood up, taking a threatening step towards Hodges. He flinched and stepped back under her withering gaze.

"Ok it's probably not!" he covered quickly, arms raised in surrender.

"And stop being such a weasel, Hodges," muttered Sara distastefully, turning to Catherine. "You don't think...?"

"I'm sure everything's fine, Sara," replied a calm Catherine. "The coroner's inquest ruled and everyone's accepted it."

"Not everyone," said Nick darkly. "They are suing him."

The team became silent, thinking about how their friends' life had been turned upside down. Sara glowered at Hodges, blaming him for bringing the topic up. What a weasel, she thought.

Warrick leaned out the door and craned his neck to look into the empty DNA lab.

"Well the new guy's not here yet—"

"New girl."

"How do you know it's a her?" asked Warrick, staring suspiciously at Hodges.

"My contacts in the wardrobe department," said Hodges, a smug look crossing his face while he made air quotes, "say there was a request made for a woman's lab coat. Size extra small. And unless we're getting another Sanders..."

"It's a wonder how you ever get your real work done," muttered Catherine.

"Practice," smirked Hodges.

"Where are Grissom and Greg?" asked Nick.

"Greg's late of course. Which in this case is probably a good thing, considering your guys' uncanny ability to gossip about everything under the sun," sniped Catherine.

"Hey, Hodges brought it up," said Sara.

Glad for the distraction, Nick motioned to the door. "Speak of the devil, there's Gris with...the undersheriff."

They exchanged glances with one another as Grissom entered the room with a scowling undersheriff and a woman they guessed was Mia's replacement. She was of average height, but slim. Her hair was a burnt orange that swung easily past her shoulders, and she walked with a confident gait. She surveyed the room calmly and a hint of a smile played around her lips.

Grissom motioned to her. "This is Viviane Lahtinen. She'll be our new DNA tech." The undersheriff said nothing but his stiff face warned them not to ask any questions.

"Is Mia all right?" ventured Nick anyway, choosing to focus his eyes on Grissom instead.

"She's fine. She had a family emergency and had to move to Washington quickly. Luckily she knew Viviane here was looking to move and offered her the spot," said Grissom.

Catherine shot Hodges an 'I told you so' glance. He pretended not to notice and stared at the woman beside Grissom instead. Noticing Hodges' slightly leery gaze, Nick and Warrick stepped forward, extending their hands.

"Welcome to the lab, Viviane," beamed Nick.

"Yeah welcome," said Warrick, shaking her hand.

"Thank you," she nodded her head to each of them.

Grissom looked from one to the other suspiciously before letting it go. "Where's Greg? I thought he could show Viviane around the DNA lab," he asked, shooting his unruly team the sternest look he could muster.

"We thought you might know," said Catherine.

"Well I guess I'll have to get someone else to do it then."

Hodges stepped forward, smiling greasily. "It would be my pleasure to do it, boss."

Grissom looked at him distastefully. "Well I guess you know it almost as well as your own, so go ahead."

With a final glance at Grissom, who smiled encouragingly, Viviane followed Hodges down the hallway.

"Poor girl. Are you sure putting her in Hodges' care is the best way to make a good first impression?" joked Nick.

Grissom gave him a withering look. "Would you mind telling me what that was all about?" he asked when Hodges and Viviane were out of sight. He crossed his arms and stared the team down expectantly.

"We were just worried about Mia," said Catherine smoothly, giving Grissom her best smile, but he wasn't buying it. She endured his gaze for a few moments before looking away sheepishly.

"Mia is fine. Her grandfather is sick and her family lives in D.C. She told me she'd been thinking of moving back for a while. So you can all stop with the conspiracy theories. Viviane is not an assassin hired to kill us or an FBI informant."

"Maybe not FBI..." muttered Sara.

"Just try to make her feel welcome," said Grissom in exasperation.

"Will do, boss," agreed Nick quickly.

______

It was a few hours into shift when Greg finally rushed into the building. The team had already been to the scene and back, and were now taking stock of the evidence in an anteroom, so they saw him coming before he saw them. He was a man with a purpose until he came to his former lab, and it was as if he'd hit a brick wall. The double-take was painfully obvious, but he soon regained his purpose and began walking again, albeit more slowly and with frequent glances backwards. The dazed look on his face remained until he entered the room his team was in. There was a slight flush to his face and he looked somewhat bewildered.

"Hey Greg," greeted Nick. "You all right?"

Greg's face was still turned to the DNA lab; from this room a glimpse of red hair could be seen moving about.

"Hey, Greg!" exclaimed Warrick as he came to the table. A pained look crossed Greg's face.

"Who is that?" he asked, frowning.

"Our new DNA chick," replied Warrick, staring at him oddly.

"Damn, guys! You don't know what you've done!" Greg burst out, turning to face them.

"What's that?" asked Grissom as he peered over the top of his glasses at the increasingly agitated man.

"You hired a redhead! You don't know what they do to me," whined Greg, grasping his head dramatically. "They're like my cryptonite!"

Nick and Warrick burst into laughter and even Sara and Catherine had to chuckle. Grissom's mouth twitched, but with herculean effort he managed to keep his composure.

"I'm sure you'll survive, Greg," he said. "Speaking of which; why were you late?"

An uncomfortable silence filled the room. Greg's mood dampened instantly under Grissom's direct stare. It seemed as if he wasn't going to say anything, then, "I was at my lawyer's office." Greg looked up boldly, staring Grissom down, though they could all see the uncertainty and pain he was trying to hide.

Grissom relented slightly. "Well, just don't make it a habit, all right? In the meantime you can help Nick and Catherine on their case."

When Grissom left the room, Warrick patted Greg's shoulder. "And that's about as close to an apology as you're ever going to get from Grissom."

Greg smiled crookedly.

"And about that other thing," said Nick with a grin. "Why don't you just go for it? She's gorgeous."

"That is, if she'll have you. She's way out of your league, man," Warrick laughed.

Not one to back down from a challenge, Greg perked up, a familiar spark of mischievous defiance in his eye. "Hey, don't write off my chances just yet," he retorted. "She is into DNA..."

"Whoa, whoa. Greg, man, just don't do what you did last time. I don't think this girl will take too kindly to you checkin' out her epithelials — and I think she'll definitely know what you're up to," grinned Nick. He was serious — mostly. Mostly he just wanted to see Greg go after Viviane and bet on the outcome.

Greg mused out loud, "I'll have to take things slow with her."

Warrick rolled his eyes at them both. Nick seemed amused, for the time being at least. He hadn't delved into his own feelings about Viviane yet; after all, she was just as available to him as to Greg. Why shouldn't he take a stab as well?

Sara and Catherine witnessed the exchange silently, growing disbelief on their faces. Finally Sara spoke up, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"If you're done trading her on the strike-out market, do you mind? We have work to do."

Nick and Greg looked up guiltily. It was all well and good to joke around, man to man, but when it came to real women, their approach left much to be desired. Greg was the first to recover. He weighed several alternatives and finally picked the one which would work better in the long term.

Stepping forward, he threw an arm around Sara's shoulders and put on his most winsome expression.

"Are you a little jealous, Sara? Don't worry, you'll always be my first love."

Nick and Catherine stared at him, aghast. It seemed Greg was trying very hard to get himself killed.

Sara's face first registered shock, then defeat. She tried to hide the smile creeping up, but Greg's disarming grin swam in front of her, shutting down every attempt she made to keep a straight face. He was just too outrageous. Finally she gave up.

"Well, all right, Greg. I'll stay your first love, and wish you luck with her. Just don't let the fact that you've never managed to get any of the girls here to give you the time of day throw off your game. 500th time's the charm!"

Greg's mock crestfallen face was enough for her. She left the room quickly on her high note, glad she'd been able to divert the conversation away from that first topic. Looking back, Sara had to admit she was, in fact, jealous. She hardly dared hope that Grissom would ever make such a spectacle of himself over her. She knew it should be insulting, but really there was no harm in a little showboating. She knew Greg well enough to know he was less than smooth with girls, and intimidated by Nick's considerable experience. As for Viviane, who knew if he would even approach her.

Nick and Catherine were still somewhat in shock from Greg's daring tactic. Greg, meanwhile, had begun reviewing the case evidence. He'd revealed too much about his feelings for the new lab tech, he knew. But Greg really hadn't anticipated his reaction to her. The single glimpse he'd caught through the glass had literally taken his breath away. Her smile was imprinted in his mind, bright hair flashing through the corners of his psyche.

On closer inspection he realized he'd been trying to gauge Nick and Warrick's reactions to the tech. Thankfully they didn't seem interested, and certainly didn't recognize what a spark inhabited the DNA lab at the moment. If his grandparents had taught him one thing, it was to trust his instincts, and to never let go of that one incredible spirit, once found.

The rest of the night passed without incident. The team kept their conversation carefully off the subject of conspiracies, not because they were worried about offending anyone, but because there really wasn't much to talk about. Slowly the news filtered around the building, first through lab techs, then through other personnel.

Greg never made it into the DNA lab that night, though he itched to talk to the girl. For some reason either Nick or Grissom or Catherine had him continuously running to and fro, and Sara seemed to be going out of her way to avoid him. That was fine with Greg. Though they'd brushed it off with a joke, neither was ready to tackle the real issue that had been brought up by his outrageous save earlier. Greg knew Sara was jealous, and knew Sara would see through his macho act.

Truthfully, he was a little ashamed of his behaviour in front of Nick and Warrick. It wasn't the real Greg, and certainly not the one he wanted the lab tech to see. He decided to blame it on the rough day with the lawyer and the shock of her presence. At this he stopped in his tracks, realizing he hadn't even found out her name. Raising his eyes to the ceiling, he silently thanked chance. It would be the perfect conversation starter.

Towards the morning Greg finally had a chance to make his way to the DNA lab. She was inside, moving between machines purposefully. Greg suddenly experienced the telltale signs of stage-fright. Briefly he considered giving up and trying again another night, but he quickly slapped himself mentally. There never would be a better time, and some inexplicable force was drawing him inside.

He hovered outside the door for some time before stepping through with his chin up. He wasn't really ready, but he thought he'd seen Hodges coming around the corner, and no amount of nervousness was worse than being ridiculed by him for being too scared to talk to a girl.

She looked up as soon as he stepped through the door, though Greg thought he was being quiet. A brilliant smile broke out over her face and Greg was dazzled for a second time. There was something about her...She was like a star whose light had obliterated a part of his brain.

I wonder how she sounds, came the feeble thought he managed to form.

"Well hello there! Decided to stop lurking, have we? What can I do for you?" she grinned. Her voice was deep and rich; it reminded him of Christmas handbells.

Ordinarily he would be mortified, but there was no hint of mocking in her voice.

"Just checking out the competition," he replied smoothly with a saucy wink. Extending his hand, he continued, "My name's Greg Sanders. I used to be the DNA tech. This was my lab. I hope you've been treating her...it well."

He tried to control himself but his nervous tongue got away from him, and the last part came out in a rush.

She only smiled again and clasped his hand in return, shaking it firmly.

"Viviane Lahtinen. It's very nice to meet you. I do hope I give her justice," she joked back.

"Lahtinen? Is that European?"

"Yes, it is! My father was Finnish."

She seemed genuinely excited that he'd noticed. Greg was amazed how easily they spoke. It was like they'd been friends for years. Suddenly he was afraid they could never be more than that. The lab was no place for a romance, and judging by her effect on him after just one glance, he didn't think he could survive a full-blown romance. Greg noticed with embarrassment that he'd stopped talking and Viviane was looking at him questioningly.

"I'm sorry, memories!" he covered. She didn't seem to buy it, but didn't make an issue of it, so he continued.

"Viviane, that's a beautiful name."

"My mother named me after the Lady in the Lake," she said.

"Of Arthurian legend?"

"The very same," she smiled.

"My mother named me after Sir Gregory, the 11th knight to join Arthur's round table."

"I'm sure. And did he kill Sir Galahad, the previous holder of that spot?"

"They reached a mutual agreement. And...I'm out of ideas! Well played," Greg grinned in defeat.

"Score one," she grinned back. "So what brings you to your humble abode?" She motioned around.

"Well, I hate to mix business with pleasure, but I actually did have a reason for coming. Grissom sent me to get the Wilkinson results. I know it's a little early, but —"

"Here they are," she said, reaching across the table to lift a sheet from a stack of papers. "Actually, you can take all of these, they pertain to your case too."

She extended the entire stack and Greg accepted it in mild disbelief.

"Well, milady, you just might have broken my record!"

Viviane smiled easily, leaning back against the counter. Playing with the papers, Greg glanced towards the hallway. He didn't want to leave, but he'd already stayed much longer than anticipated. Grissom would be waiting, and after the pass he'd gotten at the beginning of shift he couldn't afford to get on Grissom's nerves.

Finally Greg couldn't find any more excuses to stay. He vowed to return with a better subject of conversation.

"Well, I'm going to give this to Grissom. He hates to be kept waiting," he said regretfully.

"And you were already late today. Better get a move on," she said, winking.

"How'd you know I was late?" he asked, curiosity getting the better of him. He was already almost out the door.

"You weren't at the assignment meeting."

"Right..."

Greg shook his head and stepped into the hallway. Damn those redheads, he thought. I'm in serious trouble. She's too...

He didn't manage to finish that thought. Just as he rounded the corner his fear came true. He was confronted by an irate Grissom. Greg covered his face with the results and tried to pretend he wasn't there.

"Not so fast," said Grissom, stopping him in his tracks.

"Hey boss!" rebounded Greg, popping out from behind the papers. "I got those results for you! Boy isn't Viviane great? She finished them in record time!"

"Then shouldn't I have received them in record time?" Grissom shot him a withering glance over the rims of his glasses.

"Should have or could have?"

"Just give them to me!" snapped Grissom.

Greg handed them over. As Grissom looked over the papers he made his escape, slipping down a side hallway.

Spying Nick in the garage, he popped his head through the door.

"Hey Nick, do you have anything that needs to go to DNA?"

Nick's head appeared from under a car. There was a smudge of grease on his forehead.

"Hey Ghandi, there's grease on your face," smirked Greg as he walked over to the wreck in the middle of the room.

"Ghandi? Where'd that come from?" grunted Nick as he wiped his face with a sleeve, succeeding only in spreading the smudge over half his face. Greg suppressed a laugh and grabbed a clean towel from a nearby rack. Squatting by Nick's head he dropped the towel on his face.

"Ghandi is for your buzz and righteous 'tude."

"Last I heard, Ghandi wasn't a surfer dude, and I thought you said it looked good." Nick wiped his face and threw the towel back at Greg, who shrugged.

"Well anything is better than that pornstache. I was afraid to go out in public with you."

Nick raised an eyebrow tolerantly. "All right Greg, what's up?"

Greg shifted uncomfortably and slid down to sit against the car. He fiddled with the towel in his hands. Waiting patiently, Nick silently wondered if something had happened while Greg was at the lawyer's.

Noticing the concerned look on Nick's face, Greg smiled.

"It's not about the lawsuit, don't worry. Grissom actually got me a pretty good lawyer."

The concern melted slightly. "So what is it then, G?"

"Viviane. Are you going to go for it?" blurted Greg, staring at Nick.

Caught by surprise, Nick just shrugged. He hadn't thought much about it, at least not after Sara's words earlier.

"Because I'm not. I don't think I could handle anything serious right now, with the lawsuit and all. Besides, office romances never work out, right?" Greg laughed awkwardly, then plowed on, merciless to his feelings and common sense.

"But if you do go for it, just be careful, ok? I mean, she's not...like other girls. She's not a one night stand and — well, she has a light, she is a light. She's...special," finished Greg lamely.

A stunned silence followed his words, but Nick didn't laugh as Greg had feared.

"Wow, Greg. Um. I honestly hadn't really thought about it," said Nick with a compassionate look. "And anyways, do you really think she'd go for me? I'm more of a BBQ chicken kind of gal, and she seems like a DNA soup and Norwegian fish balls kind of girl."

"Did you just call yourself a gal?" joked Greg weakly.

"You know what I meant. I don't think anyone would mind if you dated inside the coven. Well, maybe Ecklie would, but who cares what he thinks anyways," Nick smiled warmly. "We cool?

"Yeah, we're cool," replied Greg, looking away in embarrassment. He was touched by Nick's words. The more he thought about it, the more appealing the idea sounded. Why couldn't he date her? He stood up, throwing the dirty towel into the waste basket.

"One last question."

"What's that?" came Nick's muffled reply from beneath the car.

"What the heck is DNA soup?" laughed Greg from the doorway.

Nick's head popped into sight again. "Oh you know, when you add the stuff in the test tube and jiggle it around, or when two DNerds get jiggy with it, the resulting —"

"OK! Too much information!" Greg threw over his shoulder as he quickly made his exit. Nick's voice followed him into the hallway.

"That's for the crack about Ghandi!"