He knew why they came back. Though he had more or less ordered them to go home and stay there until shift, he hadn't really expected any of them would. So it was that about two hours before shift was scheduled to start, they began to drift in. Sara was first of course. She arrived only a few minutes after he did, and after a quick hello had disappeared into the break room with a text book on forensic profiling. Catherine had been next. She had nodded at him on her way past his office to the layout room where he presumed she was poring over the photographs hoping for a bolt of lightning. Greg too had soon arrived and taken up his vigil in the DNA lab again, and Nick and Warrick, when they arrived, stopped in on everyone before gravitating the television in the break room to see what the News had to say about the case.

And so they began the type of shift they all hated the most. The type where Grissom waited for his pager to go off, while wishing it never would again; where Sara and Greg waited for the coffee to percolate and every drop that fell from the filter to the pot seemed to take an eternity; where Warrick and Nick tried to lighten everyone's spirits without passing the line of good taste; where Catherine paced the halls. Waiting. It was the type of shift where one felt guilty for talking, but where they couldn't stand the silence. The type of shift where every second of every minute of every hour goes by as a waste of time, and there is nothing they can do about it.

The centre of the universe was located in the DNA lab, and gradually, like any good stellar body will do if given enough time, the team gravitated to join Greg in his vigil there. The printer sang out in the silence of the room, even to Grissom it sounded profanely loud. The sheet that emerged printed in full, and floated gently into the tray, where it remained for several seconds. Greg looked around, as though expecting someone else would want it first, but then got hold of himself and stepped forward to retrieve the results. Sara vacated the chair at the CODIS computer for him, and he typed in the result parameters as he spoke.

"The DNA is good." There was an audible sigh around the room. "I'm just checking it with CODIS now."

A few more minutes passed in that deep silence. Greg's face fell, and they all knew his words before he spoke them.

"No match." Silence again.

"Well, at least we have something for comparison." Nick began but he was interrupted by the musical tones that Grissom had been both dreading and anticipating for hours now. He looked down at his pager.

"Let's go."

* * * * * * *

Under different circumstances, one of the police officers standing behind Jim Brass might have said something about nerds and their science, but Brass knew that no one would say anything tonight. The police had nothing, and if they got something to work with, they wouldn't care who it came from. The stood at various points along the taped perimeter of the scene, fending off the press, and making way for those who had to go inside. Brass hadn't been inside yet, but he'd heard that it wasn't pretty.

Two dark tahoes drove up and the five familiar figures exited their vehicles. An officer held the tape up for them, and they stooped underneath to join Brass on the inside.

"Single mother woke up to the smoke detector." He began his exposition, "Followed it downstairs where she found a small fire in the basement. She called the fire department, and then went upstairs to get her baby and he was gone."

Brass had seen a lot of facial expressions in his time with the LVPD. He hated most the ones that were in front of him now.

"The room was covered in blood guys," He continued heavily. "and the EMTs had to sedate the mother."

The five CSIs trooped into the house, up the stairs and into the nursery. The crib, shelves, and carpet were all blood soaked, and the light of the moon through the window made the colour seem even more menacing. Nick walked over to the crib, picking his way lightly across the floor. He pulled his camera up to his face and took several pictures. Warrick and Catherine were collecting blood samples and Grissom and Sara moved to see what Nick had taken a picture of.

The sheets in the crib had at one point been white, but they, like the rest of the room, were now bloody. The pillow case however, was pristinely white, glowing in the moonlight that was cast upon it. In the centre of the pillow was a pair of red mittens.

"The blood isn't human." Catherine reported, undisguised relief in her voice. "I'll get it back to the lab."

We'll finish here then." Replied Grissom, and the four remaining CSIs set to work.

* * * * * * *

Greg walked into the break room carrying a folder full of results from his most recent round of blood samples. Five faces looked up to see what he had to say.

"I analyzed all the blood samples that Catherine collected." He began his report. "You were right, it isn't human. It's feline."

"Good night mittens, good night kittens." Warrick quoted.

"Exactly." Greg continued. "Now according to the size of the average cat, I calculate that there were roughly six of them. The interesting part, is that they have matching DNA."

"Same litter." Sara concluded.

"Bingo."

"Warrick, Catherine, why don't you start looking for records from pet stores, animal shelters, vet clinics, anything that might tell us how the kidnapper got the kittens." Grissom said, "Sara and Nick, Mobley says the press is circling outside. I'd like you to talk to them, be diplomatic if you can. I'm going to start correlating the pictures and the evidence and keep the paperwork up to date."

There was a pause in which Catherine shot an accusatory glance at Grissom, only to notice that he was looking at someone else. She followed his gaze across the room to Sara, and saw the younger woman nod. It always unnerved her when Grissom and Sara communicated without words, it made her feel out of the loop. Something was going on here, but before she could say anything, Sara, acting on mute orders from their supervisor, corralled Nick and headed for the door. Catherine and Warrick followed them out.

Grissom sat at the table, briefly aware that he had done it again. He had aroused suspicion, and then not answered any questions. Catherine was irked, he could see that, but Catherine had become more irksome these past few weeks. He hoped that wasn't his fault. He reached for his glasses, pulled them on, and waving to Greg as the lab tech poured himself a coffee, exited for the layout room.