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Silence settled inside the room, Sara breaking it first. "Besides the math problem from hell, what are we looking at?" she questioned and Natasha capped the pen. "Proof," the college student said quietly. "That Jock Doe was killed by an meteorite."

"You're kidding..." Nick said, shocked. "A damn asteriod?!"

Smiling, Natasha used the pen in her padded paw to point to a diagram she had drawn. "Actually Mr. Stokes, asteriods are mostly found with urainium and iridium traces in them. Meteors are mostly metal, like the one in the evidence bag. Iron in fact.

"Last week, starting last Monday, the Earth crossed a set of NEOs, Near Earth Objects, called the Antillies which are a small cluster of meteors that pass through every 4 years and 26 days. They began their pass on said Monday and it ends next Thursday. In any case," she continued, pointing to equations. "The rock is consistent with the ones picked up by WLVU's Astronomy Club, 92% Iron, 7% Carbon, 1% trace metals and materials, correct?"

Blinking, Catherine nodded. "That's exactly what Greg told us..." she said, staring and Natasha offered her a smile. "I was on the team that recovered the rocks from out in the desert. Anything smaller than...a pillow usually burns up in the atmosphere and disappears which is what we call shooting stars. But our heavy friend here was part of a bigger mass, probably about twice that. The outer shell burned in the atmosphere, which adjusting for weather reports that day and air resistance, at about 937 degrees. All that was left was semimolten iron, traveling at Mach 50.24 which took about 3.798 seconds from the time it entered the upper atmosphere to strike the victim in the head at an angle of 47.3 degrees...had to eyeball that angle from that helmet, pardon if it's off," she finished, pointing.

All the CSIs exchanged looks of disbelief to each other and to the glass covered in ink. "Is this legit?" Sara asked, still not liking the idea and Natasha arched an eyebrow slowly. "I could take you through the whole set of calculations," she offered.

"No thanks, I'll pass."

Nick was still in shock, sitting on the corner of the long table. "Will this hold up in court?" he questioned.

"It's pure math, man," Warrick said, whistling, taking a look. "Stuff I ain't seen since College."

Looking too, Catherine cast a glance at Natasha. "And you did all of this...in your head?"

The lacrosse player shrugged. "Calculus, burn times, a little trig...child's play," she said almost nonchalantly. "Give me 3rd year quantium mechanics and then I might need a pencil instead of a pen."

I placed a hand on her shoulder, feeling her jump suddenly and I repressed a smile. "Thank you, for coming in," I said gently. "I know you're busy."

Nodding, she reached down to grab her helmet, placing it back on her head. "Anytime Mr. Grissom. Nice meeting you all," she waved to the majority of the criminalists who were still studying her math skills and was gone, slipping through the door. And so was Sara.

'Shit,' I thought and went to follow them when I felt a hand on my forarm. "No, Grissom," Catherine said, squeezing. "You can't come between them, not now. They'd tear you apart."

"Them tearing each other is what I'm worried about, Cath."

I was pretty sure I cut an odd figure in the Crime Lab, short girl in lacrosse gear. 'But hey, I just solved a crime,' I thought with a dopey grin. 'Ok, not really but I did. And it only took some math skills, no DBs...'

"Hey!" a voice called out from behind me and I turned, facing Sara Sidle. 'Damn, be neutral,' I instructed myself and I pulled up my helmet, letting it rest on my head but still allowing her to see my face. "Yes?"

"Nice work back there," she said evenly and I bowed my head. "Always glad to be of service," I replied and she looked around, trying to find some place where people wheren't staring at me as if I had grew a second head. "You got a minute?" Sara inquired.

Shugging I said, "A few," before following her into a different hallway which was nearly deserted save for the desk jockey in the corner. "How do you know Grissom?" she asked and I sat on a bench, taking off my gloves. "We're friends," I answered, sitting them next to me. 'Yeah, friends,' I thought to myself, ironically. 'We've been seeing each other for 7 months and 16 days and we're still friends. Well, it's not like he's said 'I love you' yet...I'll probably be graduated by the time he does...with a PhD...'

"Grissom and I were...close," Sara pushed, standing in front of me, crossing her arms. "And I never met you, never heard your name."
"Class, lacrosse...I'm busy, he does lectures at WLVU." 'Which isn't a lie...'

Sara seemed to stare at me for a moment as if I was some grade school girl and I stared back. 'Hon, I can glare with the best of them, try me,' I thought, now pissed. 'You don't know me and you're judging me because I *look* young...little secret: I'm not.' Making a choice, she broke eye contact and sat down next to me, elbows on knees. "Truthfully...girl to girl...what are you two?" she asked softly and I fought to keep my expression passive. 'Catch more flies with honey rather than vineager?' I considered and she looked at me, eyes pleading. "Seriously...I...look, he won't talk to me...and I won't talk to him. I just...need to move on with my life, you know? It..."

I felt something inside me melt. 'I know how Gil Grissom can get under your skin,' I remembered and sighed. "I don't want to...cause any hard feelings," I explained. "Grissom thinks highly of you; tells me all the time how smart, passionate, and fierce you are about your job--"

"I bet that's not all he says about me," Sara muttered and I smiled. "He said you...needed a destraction from work, that you sometimes get attached but that he does it too...nothing bad, honestly to whatever god, small g, you believe in," I added and the CSI smiled alittle.

"I hope you're happy...in a good way," she said, extending a hand. "I'm sorry, really, I tend to get a little..."

I took her hand. "Passionate, fierce?" I supplied and Sara nodded, looking slightly embaressed. "Grissom was right about that...really though, great job on the math in there."

"Thank you. And great job on Texan boy in there," I winked, pointing, pulling my gloves back on.

Sara looked at me confused as we both stood. "Huh? Nick?" she asked and I smiled again, pulling the helmet on all the way. "When he asks, say yes...after all, he's cute," I winked and turned to walk out the door. "Nice meeting you, Ms. Sidle."

"Wait, what about Nick?" she called out but I was already gone. 'That didn't go as bad as I thought it did,' I realized, breathing. 'We don't want to kill each other and I might have even made a friend...'

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