Disclaimer: I do not own CSI.

AN: Right, so I'm going to try to finish this story. I don't know how that'll go, since I'm not really into CSI anymore, but I thought I should at least give it a shot. The less incomplete messes I have stored on my computer, the better. And for those interested, yes, that means there's a chance that certain other unfinished stories I've started might get resurrected, but I wouldn't count on it.


Lindsey edged out of the room, trying to avoid looking at her mother. Years of growing up in the Willows' household had taught her many things, the most useful of which was when it was best not to present a target for her mom's temper. So while Catherine glared at her, she scampered through the doorway, leaving the two adults alone.

Quietly, they both examined the damage.

"So…" Sara began uneasily.

"Yeah," Catherine muttered back intelligently, staring numbly down at the bed that Sara was supposed to be sleeping in. The bed that was now very inconveniently covered in soda. She'd told Lindsey a million times not to bring food or liquids in here. It figured that this time when her daughter ignored her, things went wrong.

"I can just sleep on the couch—it's no big deal. I mean, I can't remember the last time I've slept in my bed." Sara shifted her eyes to the doorway and adjusted her grip on her duffel bag awkwardly. "Or I could just go back to my apartment and head here in the—"

"No, Sara. We had a bet, and you lost. You stay here and take my bed. I'll sleep on the couch."

"I'm not kicking you out of your own bed, Cat."

"Right, I'm leaving voluntarily and taking the couch so you don't have to sleep on it."

Hadn't they just had this discussion earlier? Yes, yes they definitely had. Except this time, there was no guest room Catherine could suggest as an alternative. There was just her and Sara and one couch and one bed.

There was no way she was going to let Sara sleep on the couch, even if she was used to that. But there was also no way Sara was going to let her take the couch.

This was why getting into arguments with the younger woman was so easy, Catherine remembered bitterly. They were both so incredibly stubborn that the slightest difference in opinion had had the potential to explode into something ugly.

At least they were friendly enough to keep their arguments to a dull roar now.

"Couldn't you two just share a bed?"

Catherine and Sara both twisted their necks around so fast that they almost got whiplash. Lindsey rolled her eyes at them. "I mean, it's not like you're going to be doing anything besides sleeping. What's the problem?"

She ducked back out of the room, but not fast enough to hide her smirk from her mother. Catherine felt like burying her head in the soaking wet sheets and hiding for a few hours. If the holiday cheer wasn't taming her more violent impulses, she might have felt a lot like strangling her loveable teenager.

"She does have a point," Sara said haltingly. Catherine would have scowled at her, but considering how obvious that would make her feelings on sharing a bed with Sara…

"Are you sure?" she asked instead, not quite willing to think about how she wanted her friend to answer.

Sara nodded slowly. "Yeah, I'm sure. If nothing else, it's way better than arguing about it, right?"

"Right," Catherine muttered. Yes. Much, much better than arguing.

"And she really is right—it's not like we'll do anything besides sleeping, right?"

…Catherine wanted to start arguing again. There was no chance in hell she was getting any sleep tonight.