SCARY A Halloween Tale

Part one

Importat Note: At times, the story will seem too wildly OC; I promise it'll make sense in the end. I wanted this to be a horror story but after two years, I'm giving up.

Slash, Grissom/Greg
I'm planning to post the chapters over the next days; hopefully, it'll be finished by October 31st.

Spoiler: mention of agent Culpepper from The Strip Strangler.

Gil Grissom was in his office reading a report, when someone knocked on his door.

Greg Sanders.

"Hey, Grissom?" he said, "You've got a minute?"

Without waiting for a reply, Greg barged in and placed a booklet on top of Grissom's report.

Grissom gave the booklet a perfunctory glance, then looked up.

"What is this?"

"It's a brochure for a Seminar," Greg said in a slightly patronizing tone. He even pointed at the word 'Seminar', "See?"

"I can see it's a brochure for a seminar, Greg," Grissom said calmly, "I also noticed the title: 'Journey into the Mind of a Murderer'; but it doesn't explain why you put it on my desk, thus interrupting my work."

"I was about to do that," Greg said, taking a seat. "It's a two-day seminar," he started, "The speaker is a former FBI profiler -"

"'Martin Reese'," Grissom said, reading the name from the brochure.

"Yeah," Greg said enthusiastically, "He's the man, Grissom. He's the best profiler the FBI's ever had! He's responsible for the apprehension of dozens of murderers; he caught the Martínez brothers -remember those guys?" He paused but not long enough for Grissom to answer, "Anyway, he's retired, and he's giving talks to law-enforcement groups. Grissom? I'd like to take this seminar."

Grissom frowned.

"We don't need profiling at the lab, Greg. We deal with physical evidence -"

"I know that," Greg said patiently, "But I think having some insight into a criminal mind could help us do a better job. I mean, it wouldn't hurt, right?"

Grissom sighed tiredly.

"Greg, FBI profilers are -"

"–interfering bastards you just don't trust?" Greg finished. He'd obviously foreseen Grissom's lukewarm response.

Gil shook his head.

"I was going to say that FBI profilers are notoriously competitive, which means that their need for publicity sometimes overrides their accuracy. And you're right; I don't trust them."

"Well, all right," Greg said calmly, "You don't trust them. Maybe in a few years I won't trust them either. But this is one seminar I'd like to attend."

"We're on a tight schedule, Greg. I can't spare you."

"The seminar won't interfere with my hours here, Grissom," Greg said quickly. "I made sure of that. But, hum," he hesitated. "The seminar's kind of pricey, so I was wondering if the Department would -"

Grissom didn't let him finish. He simply put the booklet down and shoved in Greg's direction.

"No."

Greg raised his eyebrows.

"No? What do you mean, 'no'? I thought we had a budget for seminars -"

"We do," Gil nodded, "But it's up to me to approve the funds. If a seminar isn't deemed a priority…" he let the word trail off. "Sorry, Greg."

Greg knew better than to insist. He rose and turned to go, but just as he was reaching the door, Grissom called out.

"Trust me, Greg," he said. "You don't need this seminar."

--------

Later that night, Greg drove to a crime scene, with Sara riding shotgun.

She noticed the brochure on the dashboard.

"Ah, this is the Seminar you were telling me about. Did you ask Grissom?"

"Yeah," Greg said dispiritedly. "But -"

"But he said no," Sara said knowingly, "I told you."

"What's with him and FBI profilers, anyway?"

"I don't know," Sara shrugged. "I guess he's had bad experiences with them. Not that I blame him," she added, the memory of Agent Culpepper still fresh in her mind.

"Well, it's not fair, you know. I want to learn."

"Well, you can learn from me," Sara said, smiling.

"Yeah, sure," Greg said, smiling reluctantly, "What can you tell me about profiling?"

"Zilch," Sara said cheerfully, "Grissom didn't let me take the seminar either."

Greg glanced sideways at her.

"I didn't know you wanted to take this seminar."

"Not this one. A couple of years ago, John Douglas, the FBI guy who's written a ton of books, came to Las Vegas. We all wanted to go –Nick, Warrick, and me. Grissom made us take a Biology refreshment course instead. He said taking a course on profiling would ruin our personal perception of people."

"And you were ok with it?"

Sara shrugged in a 'what can you do' gesture.

"Well, I think it's wrong," Greg said firmly. "If I have the time why shouldn't I get the dime? I should be encouraged, not shot down for trying to learn more." He drove in silence for a while, and then he said, "You know what? I'm gonna take the seminar, no matter the cost."

"You seem very determined," Sara said, "Good for you." Then she added, "Just don't let Grissom catch you."

"Why? What is he gonna do?" Greg retorted. "As long as it isn't the lab's money, it isn't his business what I do with my time."

"Greg," Sara sighed, "If it's got to do with the lab, then it is Grissom's business."

---

It was around this time that Teri Miller, the famed anthropologist, was reported missing by her husband. Though the case was being handled by the day shift, the members of the night shift had a personal interest in it, since Teri had worked with them at one time or another.

That night, Warrick and Nick were in the break room, discussing the case. Sitting at the table but not taking part in the conversation was Greg, who was more interested in the book open in front of him.

He took notes from time to time, adding to the ones he'd taken at the seminar.

Earlier that day, Reese had talked about what he called, 'The quiet murderer by your side." "He's your coworker," Reese had said solemnly, "The guy next door. Your best friend at school. He can be a teacher, an office worker -"

"Or an FBI profiler?" someone called up, and everybody laughed.

Reese had merely smiled.

"Being a teacher or a cop -or an FBI profiler- doesn't exempt you from committing a crime," he said, then went on to describe some of the suspect's characteristics.

"Outwardly, he seems very well put-together; he's good at his job -brilliant, even. He pays his taxes on time, he never breaks the law…" he paused, "But it's all a front; deep inside, there is a conflict. And he's aware of this. He makes sure he doesn't attract people's personal interest. He dresses in neutral colors; he's a loner -in a room full of people, he'll be in a corner, watching -always watching.

"He doesn't have long-lasting relationships with the opposite sex. If he gets involved at all, it's more for the sake of appearances, than a real need for a connection. He can't handle emotional intimacy. He's -" he paused, then smiled, "He's married to his job, so to speak. And society applauds him for that."

"Then one day he dies, and when a family member goes over his possessions, he discovers the deceased's kiddie porn tape collection. Or they find human bones buried in the backyard."

Greg was so focused on his notes that he didn't notice when Grissom entered the break room. It wasn't until Warrick greeted him that Greg realized he was there, and that he could easily see the notes strewn all over the table. Greg discreetly picked up the notes and piled them under a magazine, but there was nothing he could do about the book on profiling open on the table. He just hoped that Grissom wouldn't see it.

Fortunately for him, Grissom seemed more interested in what Warrick and Nick were saying about Teri Miller's disappearance. Though he didn't intervene at any moment, it was obvious that he was closely following the conversation.

It suddenly dawned on Greg that this was something Grissom often did: quietly stand around while others did the talking. Even when they were in a case, Grissom often preferred to watch and listen, to a point where witnesses forgot he was there.

With his dark, inconspicuous clothes, Grissom easily blended into the ground.

Funny, that was exactly what Reese had said earlier that day. That 'the quiet murderer by your side' was, "a loner… in a room full of people, he'll be in a corner, watching -always watching…"

What else did he say?

"He doesn't have long-lasting relationships… He's married to his job, so to speak…"

Greg was amazed by how well Grissom seemed to fit into Reese's description of the 'quiet murderer.'

'Maybe Grissom is right,' Greg thought. 'Maybe profilers ARE full of crap.'

His thoughts were interrupted by Sara, who leant into the room to make an announcement.

"Guys? The sheriff's about to speak to the press," she said, then stepped away. They needed no further explanation; they immediately left the break room and followed her into the conference hall, where sheriff Jackson was already addressing members of the press and the Police Department.

Greg, who didn't share the same concern over the anthropologist's fate, stood in the background, glancing around, more curious about his coworkers than the sheriff's speech. Now that he had a new insight on people's behavior, he wondered what his friends' private lives might be really like.

A few feet away, Grissom stood leaning against the wall -blending in with it, so to speak -his whole attention on the sheriff. Greg looked back at Jackson, who was explaining how the efforts made in the search for Teri Miller had begun to pay off.

"We have a break in the case," he said, "Teri Miller's car's just been found."

As the reporters started peppering the sheriff with questions about this information, Greg casually glanced at Grissom.

What he saw chilled the blood in his veins.

TBC

Tomorrow, part two