Disclaimer: Everyone mentioned in this story (except for Emily Reese and
Phil Novelhin) belong to other people, sadly enough.
Author's Notes: The title really is pending. But I do think it's a cool title. So unless anyone has some suggestions, the title will remain Title Pending. (I think I just used 'title' too many times.) If there are any mistakes, I'm sorry!
"Seek out that particular mental attribute which makes you feel most deeply and vitally alive, along with which comes the inner voice which says, 'This is the real me,' and when you have found that attitude, follow it."
- William James
CHAPTER ONE: Fifteen Minutes
The three short knocks on his office door went unheard and unattended. He remained in his swivel chair, his heels on his desk, his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, his eyes focused on the magazine on his lap. The young woman in front of the door knocked again and tested the handle. The door opened and she poked her head inside. The man's concentration was obviously intense and the young woman quickly became more flustered than she had been prior to coming to a stop in front of Gil Grissom's door.
"Mr. Grissom?"
Gil Grissom's head jerked up. He frowned at blonde woman before him. "May I help you?"
"Yes… May I come in?"
Grissom bit his tongue and nodded. All he had wanted was a fifteen- minute break from the reigning chaos in the crime lab. He placed his feet on the ground and, after dog-earing page thirty-six, rested the February issue of the Forensic Journal on top of the clutter on his desk. She stepped inside and closed the door. She turned on her heel and walked towards his desk. She outstretched her hand and said, "I'm Emily Reese. I'm an intern from Florida."
"A college intern?" Grissom asked, his voice wary. He shook her hand and immediately noticed the firm, confident manner in which she introduced herself. It betrayed her slightly shaky voice and timidity at the door.
"Yes," she replied, placing herself in one of the two less than comfortable chairs before his desk. She rested a manila folder on her lap. "From the University of Central Florida in Orlando. I'm, um, graduating this April with a major in Forensic Science and a minor in Chemistry. I need fifteen weeks of an internship to graduate and I've been here for three."
Grissom subtly checked the calendar hanging on the wall. "You started January fifth?"
"Yes, sir," she replied. "I work under Mr. Ecklie." Grissom frowned at her. She lowered her eyes and stared at the bottom of his desk before looking him in the eyes again. "That's why I'm here."
Grissom sighed and said, "I'm not Ecklie's superior, Ms. Reese. If you have anything to say about him, query or complaint, you need to report to Lieutenant Wesley Knoll. His office is-"
"I know where his office is, Mr. Grissom," Emily interrupted with an apologetic smile. "I've visited his office several times in the past few days. He sent me to you." Grissom raised his eyebrows and waited for more information. She cleared her throat and began twisting her hands in her lap. "Well, see, I can't work under Eck… Mr. Ecklie anymore. I've explained the situation to Lt. Knoll and he told me that if you, you know, needed an extra hand…" She shrugged.
"Why can't you work with Ecklie anymore?"
"Well, it's kind of complicated," she sighed. She ran her right hand through her short blonde hair and pursed her lips. "He's a good CSI and all but we just don't work together well."
"Ms. Reese-"
"Emily. Please." She offered a small smile.
"Emily." Grissom cleared his throat and stated, "In the workplace you will run into people that you will not get along with. It happens everywhere, no matter where you work. Everyone has to adapt."
"It's not that," she sighed. She frowned and said, "I just don't feel comfortable around him. Every time I look up, he's looking at me and I just feel… degraded. He makes comments and…" Grissom's face was marred by a frown and Emily quickly shook her head. She let out a short, nervous laugh and said, "I'm probably imagining it but it's immensely unnerving. I told the lieutenant that my professor at college really wanted me to work under you, which is true. The lieutenant looked through my file and saw that he did intend for me to be on your team. Lt. Knoll said he would agree to whatever you decide. Basically, it's your move."
"Who's your professor?"
"Dr. Phil Novelhin," she stated. "He told me he attended college with you."
A smile tugged on Grissom's lips. "Phil Novelhin." Emily nodded. Grissom sighed and said, "What does an intern do, exactly?"
"According to Ecklie, paperwork," Emily smiled. "I've talked to some of my peers at other crime labs and they are all doing the same things: pushing paper and observing evidence processing. Supposedly, they'll actually start the hands-on stuff in the sixth week. Oh, and they're doing their senior thesis."
Grissom rested his elbows on his desk and massaged his temples with his index and middle fingers. As of late, the night shift had been swamped with cases. Catherine Willows and Warrick Brown had been clocking in for more overtime than ever. Sara Sidle and Nick Stokes were burning themselves out; they had both maxed out on overtime hours the past three weeks. Grissom found himself juggling two new cases a night and they weren't so easy to solve in twelve hours.
"Is the LVCL still only accepting interns within the top ten of their graduating class?"
Emily nodded solemnly. "Yes, sir."
"And you're majoring in Forensic Science?"
"Yes, sir."
Grissom looked at the clock on the wall. 2:43 a.m. Thirteen minutes had passed since he had holed himself in his office. He nodded at her lap. "Is that your file?"
"Yes, sir." She held it out to him. "Everything is in there. Transcripts, grades, reports, recommendations."
"Phone number?" he asked, accepting the folder.
"Yes, sir," she replied on the end of a yawn. Grissom raised his eyes to find her covering her mouth. He smiled shortly.
"How long have you been working today?"
Emily turned her head around to find the clock next to the calendar. "Since seven this, ah, yesterday morning. So, about twenty hours."
"Is that standard for an intern?" Grissom smirked.
"Apparently," she smiled back.
"I'll look the file over and talk to my team. If we do indeed need your assistance, I'll call you by…" He sighed. "You have to be at work at seven?"
"Yes, sir."
"Well, I'll be here. Find me and I'll inform you of whether or not we need assistance. It'll take about two days to get you transferred to the night crew, if all goes well." He stood. Fifteen minutes was up. He tucked the file under his left arm and walked to the door. She stood and followed him. He opened the door and said, "Get some sleep. And no more of that 'sir' stuff."
She chuckled and nodded. She shook his hand once again and said, "Thank you, Mr. Grissom. Talk to you in four hours."
Emily was already down the hallway as Grissom said, "It's Grissom."
I hope you liked it!
Author's Notes: The title really is pending. But I do think it's a cool title. So unless anyone has some suggestions, the title will remain Title Pending. (I think I just used 'title' too many times.) If there are any mistakes, I'm sorry!
"Seek out that particular mental attribute which makes you feel most deeply and vitally alive, along with which comes the inner voice which says, 'This is the real me,' and when you have found that attitude, follow it."
- William James
CHAPTER ONE: Fifteen Minutes
The three short knocks on his office door went unheard and unattended. He remained in his swivel chair, his heels on his desk, his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, his eyes focused on the magazine on his lap. The young woman in front of the door knocked again and tested the handle. The door opened and she poked her head inside. The man's concentration was obviously intense and the young woman quickly became more flustered than she had been prior to coming to a stop in front of Gil Grissom's door.
"Mr. Grissom?"
Gil Grissom's head jerked up. He frowned at blonde woman before him. "May I help you?"
"Yes… May I come in?"
Grissom bit his tongue and nodded. All he had wanted was a fifteen- minute break from the reigning chaos in the crime lab. He placed his feet on the ground and, after dog-earing page thirty-six, rested the February issue of the Forensic Journal on top of the clutter on his desk. She stepped inside and closed the door. She turned on her heel and walked towards his desk. She outstretched her hand and said, "I'm Emily Reese. I'm an intern from Florida."
"A college intern?" Grissom asked, his voice wary. He shook her hand and immediately noticed the firm, confident manner in which she introduced herself. It betrayed her slightly shaky voice and timidity at the door.
"Yes," she replied, placing herself in one of the two less than comfortable chairs before his desk. She rested a manila folder on her lap. "From the University of Central Florida in Orlando. I'm, um, graduating this April with a major in Forensic Science and a minor in Chemistry. I need fifteen weeks of an internship to graduate and I've been here for three."
Grissom subtly checked the calendar hanging on the wall. "You started January fifth?"
"Yes, sir," she replied. "I work under Mr. Ecklie." Grissom frowned at her. She lowered her eyes and stared at the bottom of his desk before looking him in the eyes again. "That's why I'm here."
Grissom sighed and said, "I'm not Ecklie's superior, Ms. Reese. If you have anything to say about him, query or complaint, you need to report to Lieutenant Wesley Knoll. His office is-"
"I know where his office is, Mr. Grissom," Emily interrupted with an apologetic smile. "I've visited his office several times in the past few days. He sent me to you." Grissom raised his eyebrows and waited for more information. She cleared her throat and began twisting her hands in her lap. "Well, see, I can't work under Eck… Mr. Ecklie anymore. I've explained the situation to Lt. Knoll and he told me that if you, you know, needed an extra hand…" She shrugged.
"Why can't you work with Ecklie anymore?"
"Well, it's kind of complicated," she sighed. She ran her right hand through her short blonde hair and pursed her lips. "He's a good CSI and all but we just don't work together well."
"Ms. Reese-"
"Emily. Please." She offered a small smile.
"Emily." Grissom cleared his throat and stated, "In the workplace you will run into people that you will not get along with. It happens everywhere, no matter where you work. Everyone has to adapt."
"It's not that," she sighed. She frowned and said, "I just don't feel comfortable around him. Every time I look up, he's looking at me and I just feel… degraded. He makes comments and…" Grissom's face was marred by a frown and Emily quickly shook her head. She let out a short, nervous laugh and said, "I'm probably imagining it but it's immensely unnerving. I told the lieutenant that my professor at college really wanted me to work under you, which is true. The lieutenant looked through my file and saw that he did intend for me to be on your team. Lt. Knoll said he would agree to whatever you decide. Basically, it's your move."
"Who's your professor?"
"Dr. Phil Novelhin," she stated. "He told me he attended college with you."
A smile tugged on Grissom's lips. "Phil Novelhin." Emily nodded. Grissom sighed and said, "What does an intern do, exactly?"
"According to Ecklie, paperwork," Emily smiled. "I've talked to some of my peers at other crime labs and they are all doing the same things: pushing paper and observing evidence processing. Supposedly, they'll actually start the hands-on stuff in the sixth week. Oh, and they're doing their senior thesis."
Grissom rested his elbows on his desk and massaged his temples with his index and middle fingers. As of late, the night shift had been swamped with cases. Catherine Willows and Warrick Brown had been clocking in for more overtime than ever. Sara Sidle and Nick Stokes were burning themselves out; they had both maxed out on overtime hours the past three weeks. Grissom found himself juggling two new cases a night and they weren't so easy to solve in twelve hours.
"Is the LVCL still only accepting interns within the top ten of their graduating class?"
Emily nodded solemnly. "Yes, sir."
"And you're majoring in Forensic Science?"
"Yes, sir."
Grissom looked at the clock on the wall. 2:43 a.m. Thirteen minutes had passed since he had holed himself in his office. He nodded at her lap. "Is that your file?"
"Yes, sir." She held it out to him. "Everything is in there. Transcripts, grades, reports, recommendations."
"Phone number?" he asked, accepting the folder.
"Yes, sir," she replied on the end of a yawn. Grissom raised his eyes to find her covering her mouth. He smiled shortly.
"How long have you been working today?"
Emily turned her head around to find the clock next to the calendar. "Since seven this, ah, yesterday morning. So, about twenty hours."
"Is that standard for an intern?" Grissom smirked.
"Apparently," she smiled back.
"I'll look the file over and talk to my team. If we do indeed need your assistance, I'll call you by…" He sighed. "You have to be at work at seven?"
"Yes, sir."
"Well, I'll be here. Find me and I'll inform you of whether or not we need assistance. It'll take about two days to get you transferred to the night crew, if all goes well." He stood. Fifteen minutes was up. He tucked the file under his left arm and walked to the door. She stood and followed him. He opened the door and said, "Get some sleep. And no more of that 'sir' stuff."
She chuckled and nodded. She shook his hand once again and said, "Thank you, Mr. Grissom. Talk to you in four hours."
Emily was already down the hallway as Grissom said, "It's Grissom."
I hope you liked it!