I gazed at myself one last time in the mirror before leaving the bathroom. I didn't quite remember the last time I had been this nervous. Perhaps instants before opening my response letter from the FBI trainning facility in Quantico? I couldn't quite pinpoint a similar moment of anxiety. Sitting back down the chair I had been sitting for the past, huh, 43, no 45 minutes, I corrected after quickly glancing at my watch, I held a strong attentive posture for anyone who might lay eyes on me, although, my thoughts were running in every direction possible. It was my first day on the job. I felt like the new kid in school... Would I fit in? Would I get along?

I tried to shrug those thoughts away. I knew that I would be put on trial period, but honestly, I was overqualified for this job. I aren't being snobbish, but let's just say that after working almost 7 years with the best of the FBI, I could practically do anything. That's probably why I had been employed even without an interview.

Why so much stress, I internally scowled at myself, I had no intention of having a heart attack at 29 on the first day of my new job. Upset to no point with my furiously beating heart, I quickly scanned the room to make sure I had no suprise compagny, and then tried some breathing exercise to tense down. It didn't do much but at least it prevented me from over analyzing the situation once more. I had been starting to tell myself that perhaps they had found someone else...

"Miss Davenport?"

My head snapped up to the sound of the uncertain voice, a polite smile quickly spreading accross my features. Our eyes met, and I instantly knew we would get along. He had a tall, well built body and was currently sporting a boyish grin, his eyes sparkling mischeviously.

"I'm Eric Delko, field CSI. Hmm, H., err Lieutenant Caine send me to fetch yah. Sorry bout the wait, we were called out as soon as we came in." He explained, talking a few step to meet up with me as I got up. He held out his hand which I immediately shook, as firmly as possible. The man was much taller then I was. In fact, he was towering me of maybe a little moer then I feet or so. With his deep tan colored skin I must have looked like Snow White next to him...

"Claire Davenport, as you already know."

He nodded, still smiling, his dark warm eyes observing me carefully. " Did you put sun lotion on?" Huh? What an odd question.

" No, why?"

" You might want too, from now on. I've been told you're from Washington. Your skin is very fair and there's a high probability that you'll burn. Don't think you wanna be beet red for your first week." He answered, his grin widening, as if it was possible.

His good humor actually worked miracles on me. The fact that he seemed so at ease around me helped me relax my nerves.

" I've taken note. Thank you."

"As a matter of fact, I've got some down my SUV. You'll be able to some on the way. We have to get to the scene. You ready?"

Was I ready? I suppose I was, so I nodded to him. He motionned me to follow him, which I did.

Well, I must say I was impressed by the Hummers, which, according to Delko, happened to me the transport of the CSI team. It made sense, in some way, I believe, but only due to the quatities of material they were always carrying around.

"The FBI doesn't have any?" He asked, trying to sound suprised but I knew he was actually , making fun of me, errrr, them. I was a CSI now, or at least, would become one...

"They tend to be less flashy. Don't like people knowing they're around."

He laughed.

My day was going not so bad to to now