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I Thought You Knew Me
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Slowly, Brachinus Medinus made it's way across the upturned palm to wrist. With feelers moving continuously, the creature tentatively made his way up the forearm, investigating the familiar terrain. With deliberate motions, the human slowly turned his arm over to allow the beetle to continue exploring.
Gil Grissom smiled. The bombardier beetle was one of his favorites. While it was far from uncommon to the area, to preserve a healthy one in captivity for any length of time was a feat. To have a specimen thriving for over three years as this one had was practically unheard of. Moving his left hand across to his right elbow, "Herbie" migrated over and began exploring the other limb.
The secret to their mutual coexistence was that the bug-man never stressed the bug. While he was fascinated with just about every insect, this carabid beetle was special for two reasons; mainly that this was one of the hundreds of creatures that the unstoppable force of Evolution met with the immovable object of Creation. True to it's name, when threatened or startled, the beetle starts a chain reaction by mixing l0% hydroquinone and 23% hydrogen peroxide in a chamber inside it's abdomen. Then a catalyst is added and the mixture is suddenly brought up to boiling point. In a perfect 'ready-aim-fire' scenario, the boiling mixture is squirted from twin 'cannon's at the aggressor with unimaginable force and perfect accuracy. Evolution or Creation? He was a scientist and there was no place in science for theistic ramblings of religious zealots, especially those blindly opposed to 'evil-oution'. Still, there was no possible scientific basis at all for the beetle's defense mechanism. It all boiled down to one thing - either it worked or it didn't. No work, dead bug. No trial and error. Give evolutionists enough billions of years, Grissom thought to himself, and they can make anything happen. Ignorant of either argument, Herbie was content existing.
Bored with the short area in which to stretch his legs, Brachinus Medinus crawled off and onto the desk, heading towards the light. Using his right hand palm side up, Gil intercepted Herbie and returned him to the terrarium. Watching the beetle move among the leaves on the bottom, he considered the other reason why Brachinus Medinus enchanted him. It reminded him of Sara Sidle. Replacing the tank cover, Grissom returned to his desk. Leaning back in the chair he sighed.
Sara.
Being the first to admit that he was not in the running for Mr. Sensitivity 2003, Gil thought that at the least he understood people as a whole. He studied human nature; it was key to interpreting motive in a criminal investigation. His feelings for Sara were passionate and real, thriving just beneath the surface. He stimulated him as a woman and as an equal. Both physically and mentally. He simply did not want to become entangled in an affair with her at this particular point in his life.
"Pin me down."
He closed his eyes, remembering. The feel of his body so close to hers up against the sheet. The feel of her arms. The smell of her hair. The look in her eyes. He felt torn as he contemplated the emotions that look stirred within. Only a fool could not be swayed by the desire they held; knowing that she wanted him and only him. Knowing what she had to offer and she was offering it to him. Was he a fool? This beautiful, enigmatic, passionate woman wanted him. Him.
But there was another side to consider. Where passion crossed the line to wantonness. He had made clear he had no desire in persuing her, yet here it was again. No longer was it animalistic hunger drawing them together, but now only her almost shameless chase. Somewhere he had almost become an object of obsession rather than a man of desire. And while the man inside of him still craved her with every inch of his body, his intellectual disposition felt disdain.
"I was hoping that whatever happened - or didn't happen - between us won't affect ...."
Suddenly there was this stranger before him. Gil was not quite sure how it happened, it was so sudden. One moment he was talking - or listening to - Sara and the next moment there was this stranger there. Oh, sure, it *looked* like the woman he knew for so many years, but in the blink of an eye, the utterance of a sentence, she was a stranger. How could she? He still could not believe he heard it. How could she think that he would compare her performance as an investigator to that as a lover and hold it over her head accordingly. He had always considered himself a fair man and thought that he conveyed this to those around him. You were judged on your performance at a particular time and in a particular circumstance. While he had expectations for each of his team he didn't compare them or play favorites. They were all treated equally and fairly. How could she have missed that?
"And, as usual, I'm talking too much around you ..."
Carefully collecting various casefiles into piles, he searched the cluttered desktop for the folder labeled 'Sidle, Sara'. Clearing a space before him, he opened it. Reaching for a pen, he began writing.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
That's all, folks.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
I Thought You Knew Me
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Slowly, Brachinus Medinus made it's way across the upturned palm to wrist. With feelers moving continuously, the creature tentatively made his way up the forearm, investigating the familiar terrain. With deliberate motions, the human slowly turned his arm over to allow the beetle to continue exploring.
Gil Grissom smiled. The bombardier beetle was one of his favorites. While it was far from uncommon to the area, to preserve a healthy one in captivity for any length of time was a feat. To have a specimen thriving for over three years as this one had was practically unheard of. Moving his left hand across to his right elbow, "Herbie" migrated over and began exploring the other limb.
The secret to their mutual coexistence was that the bug-man never stressed the bug. While he was fascinated with just about every insect, this carabid beetle was special for two reasons; mainly that this was one of the hundreds of creatures that the unstoppable force of Evolution met with the immovable object of Creation. True to it's name, when threatened or startled, the beetle starts a chain reaction by mixing l0% hydroquinone and 23% hydrogen peroxide in a chamber inside it's abdomen. Then a catalyst is added and the mixture is suddenly brought up to boiling point. In a perfect 'ready-aim-fire' scenario, the boiling mixture is squirted from twin 'cannon's at the aggressor with unimaginable force and perfect accuracy. Evolution or Creation? He was a scientist and there was no place in science for theistic ramblings of religious zealots, especially those blindly opposed to 'evil-oution'. Still, there was no possible scientific basis at all for the beetle's defense mechanism. It all boiled down to one thing - either it worked or it didn't. No work, dead bug. No trial and error. Give evolutionists enough billions of years, Grissom thought to himself, and they can make anything happen. Ignorant of either argument, Herbie was content existing.
Bored with the short area in which to stretch his legs, Brachinus Medinus crawled off and onto the desk, heading towards the light. Using his right hand palm side up, Gil intercepted Herbie and returned him to the terrarium. Watching the beetle move among the leaves on the bottom, he considered the other reason why Brachinus Medinus enchanted him. It reminded him of Sara Sidle. Replacing the tank cover, Grissom returned to his desk. Leaning back in the chair he sighed.
Sara.
Being the first to admit that he was not in the running for Mr. Sensitivity 2003, Gil thought that at the least he understood people as a whole. He studied human nature; it was key to interpreting motive in a criminal investigation. His feelings for Sara were passionate and real, thriving just beneath the surface. He stimulated him as a woman and as an equal. Both physically and mentally. He simply did not want to become entangled in an affair with her at this particular point in his life.
"Pin me down."
He closed his eyes, remembering. The feel of his body so close to hers up against the sheet. The feel of her arms. The smell of her hair. The look in her eyes. He felt torn as he contemplated the emotions that look stirred within. Only a fool could not be swayed by the desire they held; knowing that she wanted him and only him. Knowing what she had to offer and she was offering it to him. Was he a fool? This beautiful, enigmatic, passionate woman wanted him. Him.
But there was another side to consider. Where passion crossed the line to wantonness. He had made clear he had no desire in persuing her, yet here it was again. No longer was it animalistic hunger drawing them together, but now only her almost shameless chase. Somewhere he had almost become an object of obsession rather than a man of desire. And while the man inside of him still craved her with every inch of his body, his intellectual disposition felt disdain.
"I was hoping that whatever happened - or didn't happen - between us won't affect ...."
Suddenly there was this stranger before him. Gil was not quite sure how it happened, it was so sudden. One moment he was talking - or listening to - Sara and the next moment there was this stranger there. Oh, sure, it *looked* like the woman he knew for so many years, but in the blink of an eye, the utterance of a sentence, she was a stranger. How could she? He still could not believe he heard it. How could she think that he would compare her performance as an investigator to that as a lover and hold it over her head accordingly. He had always considered himself a fair man and thought that he conveyed this to those around him. You were judged on your performance at a particular time and in a particular circumstance. While he had expectations for each of his team he didn't compare them or play favorites. They were all treated equally and fairly. How could she have missed that?
"And, as usual, I'm talking too much around you ..."
Carefully collecting various casefiles into piles, he searched the cluttered desktop for the folder labeled 'Sidle, Sara'. Clearing a space before him, he opened it. Reaching for a pen, he began writing.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
That's all, folks.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~