Disclaimer: I own the plot. Don't own the characters, but as far as I know the ideas are mine. So dun steal 'em.

The office was a place that most high-school students made a point to avoid. Gilbert Grissom, however, was not most students, and he volunteered there for his study hall. He generally filed papers, since the first half of the day was spent handling late students, and they always had notes and needed passes to class and all that. The three secretaries loved that Gil was there to lessen their workload, and they loved having him around. He did a fair job at keeping them entertained with how intelligent he was, and they'd spend entire periods quizzing him, getting an office-wide trivia game going. It always ended when the old principal would walk in, her skin wrinkled unimaginably, her outfits hideous, and she smelled like embalming fluids. Honestly, Gil wasn't sure why she was still alive. But she was.

He wasn't a particularly popular student, even as a senior. Nobody liked the shy, smart kid who hid in the back of the room, refusing to raise his hand. The teachers allowed him to do that because they knew that he knew the answers, he just didn't want to call attention to himself. At the beginning of the school years, they would try, but by the time interim reports went out, they had learned to not bother. Group work was horrible for him, and he usually let his teammates chatter amongst himself while he did all the work. They'd get the highest grade in the class and they would boast about their smarts, but Gil would just smile, not needing the recognition of being the smart one to know that he was the smart one. He had no desire of friends, because they just got in the way of his studies.

Short fingers were flying over the papers in the huge box in front of him, alphabetizing them with out a word to himself. A little smile had been on his face, but when the questioning had stopped, he'd gone right back to his work.

"Oh, I got one for you, Gil!" One of the secretaries called, and that amused smile returned to his round face. Sighing, he looked up from the box, adjusting his weight a bit in the uncomfortable chair.

"I'm listening, Ms. Miller." He replied, waiting for her to read some trivia question she had gotten from looking something up in a text book. Too bad he had read all of them already, and thus would disappoint her game by knowing the answer.

"Chemistry this time. Kay… What is the at…atomic mass..? of….hm… Mercury?" She choose the element with a flourish, and Gil sighed, shaking his head.

"200.59, Ms. Miller." He replied with out hesitation that could be marked, and in the beat of silence, he had to keep from laughing. He didn't have to see them to know that the other two were staring at her, watching her stare at the book, which would show that exact number to her.

"Palladium." She quipped, butchering the pronunciation of it, but he smiled still.

"106.42."

"Calcium."

"40.078." Silence now, and he chuckled to himself, going back to the filing. They had yet to find a question that stumped him, and while they were irritated with that, he knew that they appreciated the break from constant filing to wonder over just how he had memorized all that.

"What is the atomic number of Lithium?" A different secretary's voice reached his ears, and he sighed softly, shaking his head.

"Three, Mrs. Haus."

"What element is number 42?"

"Molybdenum."
"Where do I go to sign in?" He blinked hard, confused at the odd question. Rising from the chair and setting his box aside, he moved to the door of the room of filing cabinets and peeked into the hall.

The sight that met his eyes made him feel rather stupid- a student had come in late and asked a secretary where to go. He hadn't been paying attention to the voices directing questions, and had nearly made himself look like a total idiot. Gil made to turn and just go back into the room when the student's steel-like gaze flicked to him, and he was paralyzed there.

She was probably one of the most beautiful creatures he had ever seen, and that was saying a lot for a young man who dissected things from the ocean and collected dead butterflies. Incredibly soft looking hair that was the prettiest shade of dark red he could think of hung down her back, reaching about the middle of her back. Her skin was pale, and totally free of freckles. She wasn't tall, really, but he thought it was her clothing that set her aside from all of the other girls who came in late.

Head to toe, she was dressed in black. Not an uncommon thing- there were plenty of gothic students, but for some reason, seeing that kind of clothing on someone as gorgeous as her made it seem different. It was still warm outside, but she had on a heavy looking black over-coat. It had been unbuttoned, though, and he could see a very tight, almost corset-like top under a whispy black scarf thing that was curled around her neck. A black skirt hung down to her ankles, and he could only guess that the black boots she was wearing hugged her calves, reaching to her knees.

As though she was trying to tease him, she shrugged the heavy coat off, draping it over a pale arm. Her wrists were covered in bracelets, some silver, some black, and he was honestly surprised (though glad) that her hair hadn't been died black.

His lips were parted a bit, and he knew that he should stop staring. He should really, really stop staring.

"Gil can take you back to your counselor's office and you'll get signed in." And the secretary may as well have punched him in the gut. Snapping his jaw shut, the young man cleared his throat and stepped forward, hands pushing into his pockets.

"Are you a freshman?" He croaked, though he knew that she had to be. He would have noticed someone like her walking around in the halls if he had seen her.

"Yes." Her voice was low and throaty, and it made Gil shiver, but he nodded at her and turned.

"Follow me, then." As he started to walk, she reached out and slid her hand out to rest against the hook of his left elbow, her dark red lips parting in a smile.

The walk down the hall felt like the longest of his life, with her walking impossibly close to him, so close that his mouth was dry and her smell felt like it was strangling him. He hadn't a clue what it was, but it was steadily torturing him, becoming like a drug that he knew he would miss horribly when she left his side.

"In here…" He mumbled when they finally reached the door, and her hand slid away from his arm. Grissom felt the slow drag of her nails, and he was immensely thankful he was wearing a long sleeved shirt, or that feeling would have driven him up a wall.

"Thanks." Was her simple reply, and then she disappeared into the office, leaving him to realize that his fear had come true. Her scent wafted away, leaving him feeling hollow and worthless and stupid, just gaping after her.

Slowly, he turned, walking back up the hall and disappearing with out a word to the secretaries to his filing room. He didn't feel the uncomfortable chair as he sank onto it, pulling the box into his lap and going back to alphabetizing.

This was going to be a very long day.

A/N: I have this story all mapped out on cards 'n stuff. It may be a little slow since I've got school 'n stuff, but I'll try to update regularly.