I make no claim to own CSI, the characters or any of the situations therein, I write in homage, with no intent to steal.

Senseless

Sara slipped into the back of the meeting hall in time to hear the last of Grissom's talk, one of the Sheriff's "show them you're worth their tax dollars, but don't give the impression that Las Vegas might be dangerous" initiatives. Sara was reminded once again of the lecture that had been the first time she saw Gil Grissom, as, effortlessly projecting his voice, he held his audience's attention throughout, even though then, as now, he was speaking without visual aids.

Grissom wound up and prepared to take questions from the audience. "If you have a question, could you please raise your hand and let my assistant come to you with a microphone." A young man, whom Sara guessed to be a police cadet on loan to Grissom for the evening, moved his way through the spectators, the first couple of people that he picked out asked the usual inane questions to be expected at such an event and Grissom answered them smoothly. Then the next questioner stood up.

Sara had already pegged the man as a journalist. He'd slipped his notebook into his jacket pocket before raising his hand, but there was still a portable voice recorder in his other hand. Unfortunately the police cadet had not been so observant and the question got asked.

"Dr. Grissom, could you please tell me what progress there has been in your own case? It seems odd to me that the efficient and effective crime lab that you have just described has so far failed to pull in any suspects for an attack on one of their own most senior people."

Sara, who had turned her attention to Grissom immediately the reporter started to speak had seen him stiffen at the mention of his "own case", and the way his mouth tightened as the man derided the lab was enough for someone who knew him so well to see he was suppressing his anger.

"As I believe I said before I began, the incident which resulted in my blindness is still under investigation. For legal reasons I am not involved, and even if I were I would not be at liberty to discuss the matter.

"Thank you for attending, Ladies and Gentlemen, I hope I have been able to enlighten you in some way regarding the workings of the Las Vegas Crime Lab. Good night."

Grissom took a step back and reached out a hand to locate the chair beside him before sitting with his head lowered slightly as the ushers encouraged the audience to begin clearing the hall.

Sara took a moment to control her own anger before approaching the stage. She could happily have punched the journalist. Before he'd spoken she'd got the impression that Grissom was managing to relax, having found something he was still able to do well, even without his sight. Normally he hated this kind of PR speaking, but it had probably made him realise that lecturing and teaching would still be options if the worst happened and his blindness turned out to be permanent. That one question had been enough to ruin it though and, although Grissom had retained his dignity, the more the growing silence indicated the audience's departure the more Grissom's shoulders were slumping, and the more tired he seemed. Taking a final calming breath, Sara moved towards the stage, allowing her feet to scuff a little so she wouldn't startle Grissom too much. Perhaps what she had to say would give him something different, if not happier, to think about.

TBC

A/N This is my first "toe in the water" piece of fanfic. There's a lot more to this story and future chapters will be longer, but I wanted to put something up to see what feedback I might get, so please review!