Bill Kaulitz's eyes quickly ran across the room. At first blush, he saw pill bottles. Many pill bottles and a bunch of pills in a large glass bowl. He picked his way through the mess of pill bottles on the ground and gingerly walked toward the other door on the other door, looking for his new superior, a Dr. Gil Grissom. Getting sent to the United States by his old boss, his own father, was bad in his opinion. And getting sent to Las Vegas of all places was even worse. He hated the City of Sin simply because he hated gambling and drugs and everything that Vegas stood for.
"This is a closed crime scene. Clean up happens once we've cleared this scene." A burly man with graying hair shined his flashlight on Bill and Bill simply flashed his badge.
"I'm CSI Kaulitz from Berlin. I'm looking for a Dr. Gil Grissom. I was told to come here to find him." Bill smiled slightly as he offered up his badge for the man to look at.
"I'm Dr. Grissom. You're Jorg's son then?" The man handed the badge back to Bill and sighed. Bill nodded ever so slightly as he took his badge back.
"So what do we have?" Bill gripped his kit and waited patiently for Grissom to tell him what they were dealing with here.
"A 405. With a possible 425." Grissom started down the hallway on the furthest side of the room and Bill quickly followed at his heels. "Since you're new, I would prefer you to go back to the lab and wait until I assign you a case so I can evaluate your competence."
"I'm perfectly competent and one of the best CSI's in all of my native land of Germany. Ask my father." Bill glanced over the room that Grissom headed into. "I see why you wanted me to wait outside but I'm not squeamish. I can take this." Bits of skull and brain and blood were stuck to the wall, while Bill simply arched his pierced eyebrow. "I can take this. I've seen worse back home."
"Hey, Gris. I've collected and documented everything that seems odd or out of place, including the blood void on the back of the victim's hand." A spiky sandy-blond haired man stood up on the other side of the bed, his hazel eyes looking to Grissom, then landing on Bill. "Who's the chick?"
"This is the son of a very old friend of mine who runs one of the crime labs in Berlin. He's our new CSI. Bill, this is Greg Sanders, one of my CSIs. Greg, this is Bill Kaulitz." Grissom glanced at Greg, who gingerly worked his way over to where he and Bill were standing, at least a dozen bags under his arms plus his kit. "Greg, why don't you take Bill back to the lab? I'll stay here and bag the scripts."
"But, Gris...."
"I'll get a ride back with Brass." Grissom waved his hand and Greg fell silent.
"Okay, Gris. Come on, Billio." Greg took one last look around the room for anything he'd missed, then turned on heel and walked out of the room, while Bill stood there for a few seconds, then followed Greg out.
"Don't ever call me that again." Bill warned as they got out to the Tahoe. He was quite pissed that Grissom had dismissed him like that and Greg's peppy Californian attitude didn't help much.
"Yeoch. Cat's got claws."
"I'm not a cat nor am I a woman."
"But your features are very feminine."
"Just shut up." Bill growled, wishing that he was back home in the coziness of his office, sitting there looking over lab reports and ballistics reports and putting pieces of the puzzles that didn't seem to fit together. He'd loved having his own office and pretty much being his dad's right hand as it was. He'd managed to rise from a lab tech who worked in any lab that he was needed in to assistant supervisor very quickly and hadn't wanted to leave it, but he was forced to. It was either both he and his dad get fired or Bill left. Bill knew that he hadn't made assistant supervisor simply because he was the supervisor's son. He toiled long and hard for that position and some people didn't realize that.
"So why are you here?"
Bill pulled his eyes away from the Vegas scenery that was passing him by and looked at Greg with a weary eye. "Office politics back home. I was the assistant supervisor and some jackass who had seniority over me, but a very shitty track record with solving cases complained to the higher ups that the only reason why I got the position given to me was because I was the supervisor's son. They planted evidence that I was planting evidence and there were only two options. Either both me and my dad be fired or I leave. My dad made the decision for me to come here to save both our reputations and his job. None of the labs back home were willing to hire me simply because word got out about the accusations against me. Then, my dad remembered about his quote old friend Gil from college who was a crime lab supervisor here in America. So he apparently called Grissom and when he found out that you guys lost two of your own, made arrangements for me to get hired here."
"Damn, that sucks." Greg said as he pulled into the Las Vegas Metro Police Department parking lot. "Come on. I'll introduce you to the rest of the team if they're here."
"Okay." Bill hopped out of the Tahoe and sighed. It was going to be hell working here, he could just see it now.