A/N: Apologies for the delay (ahem) in writing - I guess I've got no excuse (well, I have, but I don't think you'd be very interested, and, to be frank, I can't be arsed giving a potted autobiography). Oh, and Kudos to Mel for beta-ing (okay, for giving me the idea in the first place).

Sara stirred in bed. She could hear a very faint thumping, almost as if someone was hammering a nail into a wall, or something like that. She groaned and turned over, rolling into Grissom's bulky form.

"Whoomf, hmmmm," came his sleep-fogged groan.

"Can you hear that?" Sara grumbled.


"That thumping. Can you hear it?" Sara repeated. She struggled to sit up, pushing Grissom's heavy arm from across her stomach.

"Sara," he wheedled. "Go back to sleep."

"No way. I wanna know what's going on." She swung her legs out of the bed and dragged herself up, reaching for her dressing gown. Sighing in resignation, Grissom followed her.

A sight certainly awaited them when they left their room. Standing outside Catherine's door, in all his crowning glory, was a butt-naked Warrick, who, in between trying to pull a white bath towel from the closed door, was banging his fist on it vociferously. Sara and Grissom were the only two privy to this intimate moment, but it wouldn't be long before Nick, and (God forbid) Greg would wake up and come to investigate.

Sara shared a small grin with Grissom, then turned to Warrick, trying hard to keep the grin from her face. "Uh, you wanna come inside our room while you wait for Catherine to finish doing whatever it is she's doing? Might get a bit nasty if anyone else sees you in this predicament."

Warrick yanked the towel free from the door, and restored (somewhat) his modesty. "If you wouldn't mind," he grumbled bashfully.

None of the three saw the door to Greg's room ajar, his blonde spikes poking through the minute gap in the door. He had heard, and seen everything, and was pretty sure that after tonight, he would probably be scarred for life. It reminded him of seeing other guys' butts when he was in the fraternity at college - not one of the nicest times of his life.

Grissom had given his dressing gown to Warrick, and was getting a shower when Catherine knocked on his and Sara's bedroom door. Sara had been reclining on their bed, reading a book, and Warrick was sitting self-consciously on a chair in the corner of the room, near the door.

"Why the hell are you in here?" came Catherine's fraught tone.

Sara looked up and raised an eyebrow, and even Grissom stuck his head out the bathroom door. "Can we help you, Cath?" Grissom inquired.

Catherine looked from, to Sara, to Warrick, and back to Grissom. "Did you two kidnap him?" Catherine demanded, eyes narrowing. "Were you going to use him in your fiendish sexual exploits?"

Sara thought better than to even think about laughing, and tried to hide her guffaw behind a cough. "Nope. Gil and I heard thumping, and we opened our door to investigate. We then found this hunk of spunk standing butt naked in the hotel corridor, and took pity on him before anyone else, namely Greg, found him out there."

Catherine turned to Warrick. "How the hell did you get locked out of the hotel room?"

Warrick shuffled about nervously, and spoke up. "My towel got trapped in the door when I left to get some clean clothes, and you'd already gone for a shower."

Catherine tried to stifle her laughter now. "How long were you out there for?"

Warrick pursed his lips. "Five minutes." He looked at the three faces indignantly. "Hey! It was cold out there. I was in danger of ... shrinking."

Sara smirked. "Looked fine from where I was standing." This earned her one embarrassed glance, and two angry glares. She shrugged indifferently. "You finished in there, Gil?" she asked innocently. "I need a shower."

"One second." He finished clothing himself, and stepped out of the bathroom, exchanging a glance with Catherine. "Sorry," he mouthed as Sara holed herself up.

"I can't believe you said that," Grissom complained the minute Sara had finished getting ready.

"What? Did I embarrass you?" she asked nonchalantly.

He wasn't sure if Sara was genuinely not bothered, or whether she was trying to stoke the fires of jealousy within him. He ignored the green colour he could sense tingeing up the surroundings, and shook his head. "Uh, no. I was more concerned that Catherine might try to gouge your eyes out with her nails."

"Oh, and you wouldn't have protected me?"

"Nope. Not against a woman. Besides," he added, stuffing his wallet into his pocket, "I'm only there to protect your honour from other men."

Sara rolled her eyes and grabbed the room keys. "Thank you," she replied sardonically. "Come on, we should get some breakfast."

As soon as she and Grissom set foot in the breakfast room of the hotel, she knew that the two of them, and Warrick and Catherine, were not the only four to have seen what had happened that morning. The only reason she knew this was because Catherine's face was blacker than it had been about half an hour before, and Warrick looked as though he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

"Who else do you think knows?" Grissom whispered in her ear as he put a hand on her hip and steered her towards the other couple's table.

The two of them saw Greg leaning over the table and whisper furtively to Nick, then look up and flash a discreet grin at him and Sara. Luckily, Catherine and Warrick's backs were facing Greg, otherwise there would probably have been a white-chalk body outline on the floor of the breakfast room.

Sara wisely kept her counsel, and reached for some toast. "So, how did you guys sleep?" she asked.

Catherine raised an eyebrow, but decided against any smartass comments. "Fine, thanks. You two?"

Sara nodded. "I like these beds. Good to sleep in," she answered plainly.

Grissom hunched forward slightly. "Don't worry. I'll get Greg on his own later on," he told them. "Make one or two certain, direct threats, and he should keep silent about this little episode."

"And if not?" Warrick piped up for the first time, still looking uneasy.

Both Grissom and Sara shrugged. "We're all criminalists," Sara said. "I'm sure we'll find a way of keeping him schtum permanently." The four of them shared a brief grin, then commenced with their breakfast.