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Nick walked closer, clearing his throat. "Uh, who's the help?"

"A friend with a background in astronomy. What is it, Nick?" I asked, bluntly and he shifted, looking uncomfortable. 'Back off, Gil,' I reminded myself and I breathed in. 'Easy...' "Sorry, case has me wired."

Scratching the back of his neck, he nodded. "Yeah, weird case...uh, what's going on with you and Sara?" he asked rushed and I arched an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Uh, well, you two weren't talking and she said to ask you why and--" Nick broke off and shrugged.

I stopped, thinking. 'There's something more here, something I'm missing and it's right in front of me...' "Nick, just tell me, what is it?"
He inhaled and closed his eyes, opening his mouth before his eyes. "I-I don't want to pry or like, interfere with anyting...I was going to ask Sara..." he started before trailing off, looking at me, helpless. The lightbulb went off in my head. 'I see...'

I placed a hand on Nick's shoulder and gave him a smile. "Go for it," I told him. "Good luck." The younger CSI looked at him in surprise before looking at the ground. "Uh, thanks Grissom," he stammered and shrugged. "I didn't want to step on any toes, you know."

"When two men fight over one woman, the end result is less violent than two women over one man," I said, arching an eyebrow.

"Who said that?"

"Catherine."

Nick smiled. "Figures."

Grissom looked towards the hallway, searching for the figure that he knew would be there. "Nick," I said, smirking. "Take my advice on the luck. You'll need it."

Approaching down the hall, Natasha walked in her gear, gloves, pads, and helmet, practice shorts slung low on her slim hips. Her jersey was flimsy, mesh, a gray sports bra showing through, thick hair in a single braid. I smiled thinking, 'Even you can make lacrosse gear seem civilized' and heard Nick whistle low. "Who is that?" he asked and I arched an eyebrow again. "My help," I continued to smile and stuck out a hand to meet her gloved one. "You could have changed, Natasha."

"And be late, Mr. Grissom?" she said, offering me a wink behind the mesh of her helmet. "Not a chance. And who may this be?"

"Nick Stokes, CSI," I introduced and she shook his hand, offering a smile. "Natasha Steward. Co-captian of Western LVU's Varsity Lacross team."

Shaking her hand, Nick smiled back. "Nice to meet you."

"The rest of the team is waiting inside, come on," I said, ushering them back inside and when we entered, I could feel all eye focus on her and she stared back at them, slightly defiant. "This is Natasha Steward," I said when everyone looked at me. "Physics/Astronomy major at WLVU and obvious lacrosse player. She's helping us on a hunch."

Sara frowned, continuing to stare at Natasha. "And what would that be? That hunch?"

I reached forward and grabbed the rock on the table and handed it to her. "What does this look like?" I asked as she tumbled it through her hands. "Rock, iron, 400 grams, distorted by extreme heat," she said simply and reached up and took off her helmet, setting it on the ground. "What happened?"

Looking at Catherine, I nodded at Natasha and the other CSI started to explain. "A football player was struck in the back of the head with this, went through his helmet, killing him," she said, pointing at the rock in her hand. "We found no human DNA, no gun shot residue, nothing."

"It must have turned his brain to mush..." she said absent mindedly and Nick snorted. "More like Gak."

"I played with that," Natasha smiled before turning serious. "You won't find any GSR or human DNA because there isn't any. There can't be."

Warrick gave her a look. "And why not?" he asked and she looked at me. "Do you have a pen? Wet dry marker and a board?" I reached and my pocket and handed her a black one and gestured to the plate glass windows surrounding us. "Write away."

Walking over to the pane next to Warrick, she uncapped the marker balanced between the thick pads of his gloves. "How tall was the player, when did this happen, what direction was he facing, and what time?" Natasha asked and Warrick looked inside a file. "6'1," he replied. "And last Tuesday, West, 6:50PM was ruled time of death."

"Where is this getting us?" Sara said, impatient and I raised a hand. "Just watch." I instructed. Elevation of Las Vegas, the player's height, density of iron, plastic, air resistance of the atmosphere, force of gravity...all of this springing on the board in less than 5 minutes. 'Calculus, Trigonometry, Algerbra, physics...and no calculator in sight. You're a genuis,' I thought proudly and I looked at Catherine, giving her a small smile.

"She's great," she said outloud, softly, smiling and a crowd had begun to gather on the other side of the glass, pointing at what she was writing. "Are they destracting you?"

A laugh. "Ms. Willows, I'm used to being on display," Natasha said wryly, not missing a beat. "But thank you, though. Besides..." Pause. More writing. "I'm done."

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