A/N: A short one for the season...enjoy!
Christmas in Vegas
Chapter One
As Gil Grissom moved through the store, listening to the ubiquitous Christmas music playing, he realized how unfamiliar he was with—with all of it. The music, the tinsel and lights, brightly colored ornaments, fake snow, everything in the colors of bright red, gaudy green, shiny silver, brassy gold, an occasional garish lime—not a real flower or plant in the store.
He knew why his mother had taken a Christmas cruise every year for a decade—maybe longer; he couldn't remember.
At work, someone always put up an artificial tree and lights were strung up in several places but he barely noticed. And the artificial year-round neon lights of Vegas made holiday decorations almost invisible—or added another layer of forged gaiety while losing one's life savings in the casinos.
A woman wearing a festive vest and a name tag appeared in front of him asking, "Could I help you find something?"
He appeared lost; he was lost.
"Paper—wrapping paper."
She pointed, saying, "Over there, four aisles—can't miss it."
Four aisles and he found a thousand tubes of wrapping paper. He muttered a swear word as he pulled one roll from the rack. Silver with red dots; it would work.
In ten minutes he was in his vehicle with time to spare.
For the next twenty-four hours, he would be on duty, supervisor in charge of the Las Vegas lab from Christmas Eve to Christmas day. It wasn't a bad shift; usually a quiet time with minimum staff and work was slow. The previous year had been abnormally quiet with only one call-out on Christmas day. Maybe this year would be the same.
Pulling into a small parking lot, he got out and then noticed the place was packed with customers. On Christmas Eve, the best bakery in Vegas, he sighed, pulling his coat together and zipping it before opening the door.
The aroma of Christmas hit his nose immediately. He had no idea what made the bakery smell as it did but he remembered it from childhood. He'd placed an order weeks ago and found the 'pick-up line' short and fast. Twenty minutes later, he was driving to work with boxes of cookies, pastries, cupcakes, and candy sitting on the back seat.
His arms filled with boxes of goodies and the roll of wrapping paper, he entered the building and knew instantly it would not be a quiet shift.
The Santa Claus being dragged down the hall by four uniforms was his first clue.
Leaving one of his boxes at the front desk where a woman from day shift was talking on the phone, he pushed into the lab.
Second clue of glass breaking and at least four machines sounding off confirmed his premonition.
Before he reached his office, Jim Brass was headed in his direction, papers in one hand, a finger on his right hand held up in an effort to halt his progress. Instead of opening Grissom's office door, Jim took the four bakery boxes and waited.
The detective said, "It's a mess out there and it's only three o'clock on Christmas eve."
After opening the door, Grissom deposited the wrapping paper behind his desk as Brass placed boxes on the top of it. Discreetly, he slipped a small box from his jacket pocket into a drawer where two other small boxes were tucked among a collection of seldom used office supplies.
Wrapping would have to wait, he thought.
"Happy to see you're in the holiday spirit," Brass said as he lifted one of the boxes to his nose. "Freed's—the best in town—I'm impressed."
Grissom smirked, saying, "It's Christmas. We're working."
"Yeah. Santa took a baseball bat to his roommate who is in the morgue now. That Santa won't be making merry for a while."
"Anything else?"
Brass held out papers. "This just in—two deaths in a house on Popular. Neighbors smelled gas. Old couple—once they were found, responding officer retreated to wait on your guys."
Taking the report, Grissom glanced over the top page. He asked, "Is Sara here? I've got her and two from swing for twenty-four hours."
"You going to be spread thin—got another body—suspicious—over at the Tangiers. Gun is there beside the body." Brass raised his eyebrows as he said, "Can we hope for a suicide?"
Shaking his head, Grissom left his office followed by the detective who said, "Tell me if you need my help—otherwise, I've got paperwork and a nice bottle in my desk."
Grissom chuckled. "Why do we always work holidays?"
"Because we have no home life—we have no life except for work. We don't have a wife nor a girlfriend. Everyone else—well, except for Sara—has someone. Catherine's off with her father, mother, and kid. Nick went to Texas. Greg—who knows where he is—probably skiing Mount Everest."
As they came to the point to take separate hallways, Grissom said, "Speak for yourself—I have a life" and chuckled as he headed toward the break room.
For a moment, Brass looked confused and then shook his head and headed to his office.
Grissom found the three investigators in the break room and after the usual greetings of the season, he assigned the newest guy, Neil, to the murdering Santa. Sara got the dead couple and Todd, an investigator who had been around for a while, got the Tangiers body.
"Check things out—I'm here if you need help." He nodded to the two guys as they left the room.
Sara, hanging back from the others, said softly, "How many years have we worked this holiday? We should surprise everyone next year—put in for vacation."
Grinning, he agreed. "I brought in some—some cookies and pastries for everyone."
"Well, look at you! Getting into the spirit! Next thing I know, you'll have a tree in your condo! Good for you." She winked and smiled, "Save a few of those cookies with the jam in the middle for me, okay?"
He stood in the same spot for several minutes; she'd never mentioned a tree, not once.
A/N: Thank you for reading! This one is a short story-three chapter!