Disclaimer: Not mine. Do I have to keep saying it?

~A Crim By Any Other Name. . .~

It was a slow night. Painfully slow. Murderously slow actually. Except for the part where there were no murders to investigate of course.

So she tapped listlessly away at the computer. None of her favourite websites had been updated since her last run through, a whole excruciating seven minutes and eighteen seconds ago. ForensicsNet hadn't been updated in almost twelve hours. Didn't people write papers any more? Her emails went unanswered. At this hour of the morning, even the most desperate were asleep. She reread the last email she'd received from her father for the fifth time in as many hours.

His emails always started with "Hi Princess!". She could hear his voice every time she read it, because he greeted her that way in person too. Crowded restaurants, deserted bus stations, fancy restaurants, that didn't matter to him. Always "Hi Princess!" followed by a crushing bear hug.

She'd never pictured herself a princess. As a little girl, she'd possessed an aversion to dresses, dolls and tea parties that was matched only by her attraction to dirt, passion for electronics, and fascination with the mixing of baking soda and vinegar. Plus there was always the trouble of the prince. He could be charming granted, but he was also terribly inconvenient at times.

She wondered if her name had any other meanings. Fingers flying over the keyboard, she sat up straight for the first time in hours as she typed "Baby name meanings" into Google. She found a site, entered her name and hit the results button.

Well, this wasn't so bad. Sarah was Hebrew and did mean 'princess', but the Irish Saraid meant 'quick' and the Indian Sarama meant 'excellent'. Still, it wasn't much to go on.

On a whim she entered the letters G-I-L and hit the results key. This was much more interesting. Gil was a pet form of many names, but the three that caught her eye were Gilbert (German, 'trusted'), Gilen (German, 'industrious pledge'), and Giles (Greek, 'shield'). When she had first met him, she was curious as to what Gil Grissom's first name was. When she learned it was simply 'Gil', she was surprised, but only until she met his mother. Then everything made much more sense.

She felt a twinge in her abdomen, and shifted her position slightly thinking 'Great, a stomach ache. Makes a perfect evening ever better'. Her fingers were already moving again and entered N-I-C-H-O-L-A-S.

She laughed out loud when she read the results for that one. 'Victory of the people' indeed. It's like someone was trying to make this as symbolic as possible. Her good spirit began to take over, and she typed in more names.

Warrick, she discovered meant 'fortress', and was not well liked by the spell checker in the email she sent him to tell him so. Greg meant 'fierce' if you were Celtic and 'on the watch' or observant' if you were Russian. By this point this was nervous to type in Archie or Jacqui for fear it would end up meaning 'he who analyses videos' and 'she who looks at finger prints' respectively, so she tried Conrad instead. It ended up meaning 'bold' or 'honest advisor', so Sara was a little relieved. Maybe there wasn't somebody out there controlling every aspect of life at the lab.

Finally, she entered Catherine. It came up as 'pure', which produced another snicker from her. Fortunately, there was no one about to look at her queerly. Remembering something, Sara reached for a Greek textbook on the shelf about the computer, and discovered that the root 'Kath' is also part of the word torture. That made more sense, and Sara laughed again.

The thrill of the hunt worn off, Sara replaced the book and leaned back in her chair to stretch. She was instantly racked with pain. A realization gripped her, and he reached for the phone one the spasm had passed.

"Willows."

"Catherine? What are you doing on this phone?"

"Grissom's conned me into doing his paperwork while he goes out bug chasing. I figured I may as well use his desk."

"What?!" Sara raged, "He was supposed to stay in the office. It's the least he can do. I'm stuck at home and reduced to combing the internet for name meanings."

"You're kind of running out of time in that department Sara." Catherine commented dryly. "But you know, Lindsay was born almost 10 days late and . . ."

"We have a lot less time than that Catherine." Sara snapped, gritting her teeth. "You call him and tell him to come and get me right now."

There was a shocked pause as Catherine processed the information.

"I'll get him." Catherine said calmly, "Have you considered Horatio for a boy?"

"Nah," drawled Sara, with what Catherine thought was remarkable nonchalance all things considered, "It means 'Timekeeper'."

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