Title: Brace Yourself
Author: Annie Lune
Summary: A story about, love, friendship, truth, betrayal, the perils of a raging war and…wait, wrong story. Ahem. Actually, it's a story about being stuck outside the crime lab, why Greg smells bad, and how old Lindsey is. A totally normal CSI story.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: well, unless you've been living under a rock, you know that JF and GE are back at CSI. That's a given. There are a few little spoilers about season five, but nothing so huge like GrissomShavesHisBeard!. I can only hope.
Anything else that needs to be said?: This hasn't been beta-ed since it's quite late, so please, yell at me if there are any grammatical/spelling errors. My fault. Also keep all flames to yourself, and use them to light your own barbeque. Not mine.
Another note since I have your attention and because you love me and want to know what I have to say: I know I've been away from the wonderful world of fanfiction lately. I apologize for anyone who has been waiting for updates. I've been waiting for life to smooth it's self out, and it doesn't do that unless you get a really big iron. Like, really really big. So I apologize, and I hope you enjoy this. And if not, your loss :)
It was late afternoon. The sun was just beginning to go down over the Las Vegas strip. Soon, the only light illuminating the sky would be the brightly colored florescent bulbs from the casinos. This fact didn't bother Sara Sidle. She hadn't seen the strip in over three months and it in a sense was welcoming her back to her home.
At the beginning of June, Sara had done the unthinkable; she took a vacation. One day she walked into work, announced to the rest of her CSI team that she was talking an extended trip, and the next day got on a plane and hadn't been back since. Those three months were the best months of her life. She didn't have anything other than herself to worry about. If she wanted to sleep until three in the afternoon, she did so. If she wanted to eat solely tofu drizzled in chocolate sauce, no one was opposing her. She had nothing restraining her, holding her back, telling her not to take the seven-mile walk only to come back and fall asleep on the couch in her pajamas.
For one of the first times in her life, Sara was the only person controlling her future.
Like all things, her vacation had to come to an end. She was actually really looking forward to be heading back to work. When you love something so much, you always go back to it no matter what else you have found in the world. And really, the only thing Sara had found during her vacation is that the Food Channel is the best channel this world has ever seen.
Sara drove down the strip in her SUV. She wasn't sure what kind it was; it had just appeared in her driveway when she arrived home with the keys in the mailbox. The lab had obviously bought new cars for everyone, and Sara wasn't objecting to a free gift like this. It might not be the most eco-friendly car, but it did have a nice sound system which Sara was fully enjoying as she drove along.
Her old habit kicked in when she pulled into the parking lot. Sara parked the car, walked around, got her lab kit out of the trunk, and then made her way for the building's main entrance. A warm and fuzzy feeling came over her as she walked up the steps that lead to the door. The glass on the door shone through onto the inside of the building, where everyone was bustling about. It was good to be back. Sara couldn't wait to get in and emerge her self in a case.
Gripping the handle on the door, Sara leaned forward and pushed.
Nothing happened.
Sara stepped back. She leaned forward on the door again and pushed. The door still did not budge.
Was the door locked? Sara checked the frame of it, but didn't see any signs of a keyhole. Even if there was one, she didn't have a key to get in away.
Maybe the door had been changed while she was gone, and this one you had to pull. Sara gripped the handle once again and pulled it with all of her might.
Nothing.
What had started out as being a peaceful return to the crime lab had suddenly taken a turn for the worse. Sara pushed, and then she pulled, and still the door would not budge. She began to bang on the glass, trying to get someone's attention so they would open it for her and let her in. but no one seemed to notice Sara standing outside. They all went about their business as if there wasn't a female on the other side of the door, desperately trying to get in.
Sara struggled with the door for three hours. At one point, she left her kit on the front steps and took a walk around the building to see if any other doors (or windows) were open. None of them were, and Sara returned defeated to the front steps.
It was now dark outside, and getting a little on the chilly side. Sara had dressed thinking that she would be running around all evening, and had worn a pair of slacks and a tank top. Now she found her self-wishing that she had worn something heavier, or even a t-shirt. She usually didn't spend this much time outside, and when she was at a crime scene she was always moving around.
"This is idiotic!" Sara heard herself scream at one point. She stood back up and banged on the door, fully ready to break the glad just to get in. Now it seemed like the lab was deserted. Even though the lights were on in most of the labs, no one seemed to be about anymore.
"HELLO?" Sara pushed her face to the glass, fully aware that it was smushing it in the process. She half expected Greg to walk by and being laughing hysterically at her. Sara actually hoped for that to happen so then he would let her in.
Greg didn't come by, however; no one did.
Totally defeated, Sara slumped down on the steps, contemplating what to do. She could always go home and pretend that she had never showed up at the lab in the first place. There was also the possibility of calling someone on their cell phone inside the lab and having them come out to let her in. When Sara checked her phone, she was disappointed to see that she had no service, and no reception, as well. While away, Sara hadn't needed her phone and hadn't bothered to roll over her minutes.
"Stupid plan," she mumbled, tossing the phone back into her kit.
Just then, a noise came to her attention. It sounded like a low rumbling, almost like thunder. Sara looked up; there weren't any storm clouds in the sky, so it couldn't be thunder, and definitely not at this time of night. It was too cool for the clouds to grow, so what was that sound?
At this time of night it was too dark to see more than a few yards in the distance without a sufficient light source. Sara could see a small speck of light, growing in the distance down the other end of the street. The sound was getting louder, and Sara was a little surprised to realize that it was a motorcycle. She watched it grow progressively bigger – and louder – and was shocked to see it pull into the crime lab parking lot. The motorcycle pulled into a space not far away from where Sara had parked, turned off the engine and the passenger got off the bike.
Who could this be? Sara wondered, as the passenger of the bike began to walk towards the crime lab. They had left their helmet on, obstructing the view of their face so Sara couldn't see who they were. They had nothing else in their hands, and nothing about their clothing triggered anything in Sara's mind as to who they could be. It wasn't until they had reached the stairs and stopped dead in front of Sara that the motorcyclist made any notice of her presence there.
"What are you doing outside?" He asked, still not removing his helmet. Fear began to rise in Sara, thinking that this was some punk who was going to rape and kill her. Sara backed up the steps slowly, and tried to figure out a way to get into the building as quickly as possibly. She knew that she could always grab her kit and throw through at the glass door…
"Sara, where are you going?" He asked, and then pulled off his helmet.
"Nick?" Sara stopped dead, realizing that the motorcyclist was Nick. "Nick?"
"Sara?" Nick asked, trying to figure out why Sara was so stunned to see him.
"Nick?" Sara said once again.
"Yeah, hi. What are you doing outside?" Nick pushed the helmet under his arm, and walked up the steps towards Sara.
"You're…bike…riding…what?" Sara could barely get the words out, she was so stunned. She had always know that Nick had a flair for excitement, but she never in her wildest dreams would have thought that Nick would buy a motorcycle.
"Oh, that's right, you've been away. Yeah, I bought a bike." Nick said, as if this were old news.
"Why?" Was all Sara could answer back with.
"They're pretty cool, Sara. You wouldn't believe what I can jump with this thing. It's not like I'm going to go jump over Caesar's Palace, but I can manage to make it over some big ditches…" Nick turned back to look fondly at his bike.
Sara was stunned. "You bought a motorcycle so you could jump over things?"
Nick shook his head 'yes.'
"That has to be the craziest thing that I have ever heard." Stated Sara.
"It's not like I'm going to go try to jump over Caesar's Palace. Just…small things. Park benches. Bushes. Cars. Those types of things. Don't you go dissing my bike. I might not let you ride it if you aren't nice to me. Warrick's already been out for a few spins, and I even got Catherine on it one day last week."
Sara was suddenly pulled back to the real world with the mention of her other colleagues. "Nick, I can't get into the lab. The door won't open."
"What do you mean, 'the door won't open?'" Nick handed Sara his helmet, and walked towards the door. He pushed, and then he pulled, and then Nick began the kick the door, but it wouldn't open for him either.
"How long have you been standing here?" Nick asked, somewhat out of breath. He slumped down against the door and rested his head back.
"Three hours or so." Sara sat down next to him.
"Three hours? Sara, that's crazy. Why didn't you just call someone?" Nick reached into his pocket and dialed a number on his cell phone.
"Wait," something had just come to Sara's attention. "Nick, why aren't you at work?"
"I am at work, Sara. I just showed up." Nick put the phone to his head, as if signifying for Sara to drop the subject.
Sara folded her hands across her chest. "You just showed up. Where have you been for the last three hours?"
Nick shot Sara a sideways look. "I over slept." He mumbled, and turned his attention back to the phone at his ear.
"Greg?" He asked his phone, "Greg, yeah, it's Nick. Look, Sara and I are locked outside the lab…do you think you could come and let us in?…what? What do you mean you aren't allowed outside?…yes, I know that Grissom doesn't want you going out into the field yet…Greg…this is just to the door…of course you can come and let us in. NO. You don't need a replacement to come and do this…"
A moment later, Nick clicked off his phone. "Greg is going to try and let us in."
"What do you mean, 'try?'" Sara questioned.
"Well, he and Grissom made this deal that he can't leave the lab to go out into the field until he has found a replacement at the lab. Greg took this a little too much to heart, and he hasn't left the lab since then. I'm pretty sure that he's been living out of the same pair of clothes for the last three weeks." Nick said with a sigh. "He's scared to come and open the door."
"Give me the phone, I'll call him-" Sara began, but then there was a knock on the glass. Nick and Sara turned around to see Greg standing there, looking a little bit worried. He then began to wave his hands madly in the air, and he was obviously saying something, but through the glass, Nick and Sara couldn't make it out.
Then, abruptly, he turned and walked away from the door.
"GREG!" Sara shouted, and began to pound on the door, "GREG. COME BACK!" She shouted at him, but he obviously couldn't hear. He rounded the corner and disappeared.
Now on the verge of tears, Sara fell back against the door and slid all the way down to the ground. Nick followed suit and came and sat next to her. Anyone walking by would have wondering why two Las Vegas Crime Lab personnel were sitting outside shooting the breeze. But no one did walk by to notice. It was almost as if everyone had forgotten about them and the fact that they ever existed.
"Are we doomed to sit out here all night?" Sara moaned, banging her head against the door. She didn't have any intent on smashing the glass with the back of her skull, but anything would have been better than nothing at this point.
"Want to play 'I Spy?" Nick asked with way too much enthusiasm. Sara didn't reply, and she hoped that he would take her silence as a 'no.'
He didn't.
"Ok," Nick stood back up and squinted, looking around for something to spy. "I spy with my little eye…something that's….Warrick?"
"Nick, you can't Spy Warrick. That's not in the game. You have to pick a color, you idiot…" Sara stood up to gaze in Nick's direction, and was a little stunned to see exactly what Nick was looking at. Nick was right when he said that he spied Warrick. Well, it wasn't technical all of Warrick, jut his head.
"Warrick?" Nick called out, and the head turned in his direction. Then, as if rising from the grave, the rest of Warrick's body seemed to grow up, and up, until all that made up Warrick stood a little ways down next to the foundation of the crime lab.
"Nick, Sara, good to see you guys. What's up?" He asked, as he came closer to them.
"What…what was that?" Sara spat, staring from Warrick to where he had just come from. Sara squinted trying to see more in the dark, and noticed one of those outside ground doors a little ways ahead. She hadn't seen that before.
"What was what?" Warrick looked from Nick, to Sara, both who seemed to be a little bemused.
"Where did you just come from, man?" Nick asked, walking down the steps and over to the ground doors.
"The basement." Warrick replied stiffly.
"We don't have a basement." Sara's night was just not getting any easier on her. First she was locked out of the lab, and now Warrick is claming that there's a basement?
"You might not have a basement, but the crime lab does. Where do you think I spend all of my time? There's a pool table down there and a vending machine. If I didn't have to come up and work in the lab, I'd live down there." Warrick turned away from Sara, as she and Nick exchanged a quick glance.
"I didn't know there was a basement." Nick shrugged.
"Not a lot of people go down there." Warrick replied quickly, and then moved on to change the subject. "So, what are you two doing outside?"
"We can't get into the lab." Sara mumbled, refusing to make eye contact with either Warrick or Nick.
Warrick raised an eyebrow. Not both of them, only one, since he had been taught in the art of only raising one eyebrow; something that takes a great deal of time to learn and only the most adapt can master it. "You can't get into the lab? That's-"
"Odd?" Nick piped up.
"Pathetic?" Sara interjected.
"-Been happening lately." Warrick finished, and Sara and Nick exchanged a quick glance. "Come on, I think the door's just stuck."
Warrick pushed by the two of them and walked over to the door. In one swift movement, he had gracefully opened the door and held it that way for Nick and Sara to enter. Nick walked proudly by, as if he owned the place and was returning form a long leave of absence. Sara on the other hand, quickly glanced in all directions to make sure that no one had seen her inability to open the door. She felt quite foolish.
Once inside the building, all three of them seemed to loosen up and relax. Nick flashed a hundred watt smile at the nearest intern – who happened to be a boy. The nervous intern's eyes grew large, and his mouth hung open. Nick didn't seen to notice his shocked expression, but continued down the hallway like it was a catwalk, smiling and twirling as he went.
Warrick on the other hand, took a more macho approach as he walked down the hall. He kept a stern stone face, and grabbed a file report out of one of the lab tech's hands. He flipped through it, tossing papers every which way so that the catwalk that Nick had used now became a wonderland of falling papers. He stopped at the end to look back at the loose-leaf folios that he had dropped, and then continued on his way.
Sara stood there, staring blankly at what Nick and Warrick had just done. She was seriously contemplating doing some back-handsprings down the hallway, something that she had picked up from watching all thirty-three hours of gymnastics during the Olympics. But instead, she resisted, ran a hand through her stick straight brown hair, and stuck her hands in her pockets. Sara followed Nick and Warrick down the hallway, but when the reached the fork at the other end, she stopped. Somehow, more than likely through renovation, she now found her self-standing in front of Grissom's office. The door hung ajar, and she could hear music coming from inside.
"Yeah, you've got that something…" a voice, no doubt Grissom's, sang from inside the office. Sara crept closer.
"I think you'll understaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand…" Grissom droned on, and Sara grimaced at his off tune melody.
Sara pushed the door open.
"When I'll say that soooooooomething, I wannaaaaaaa hold your-"
"Girssom, what are you doing?" She asked, leaning against the doorframe. Grissom jumped at the sound of her voice. He spun around in his chair to face her, and then clicked off his Beatle's CD.
"I didn't hear you there." He breathed, grabbing his chest as if she had just jumped out of his closet on a dark and stormy night.
"You were singing pretty loud."
"But that's still no excuse to go barging in on someone like that." He retorted, and stood up, pushing his chair back as he did so.
There the two of them now stood, face to face but on opposite sides of the room. A marching band complete with jugglers using flaming bowling pins could have come and passed between the two of them, but they still wouldn't have lost eye contact.
"So. You're back from your vacation." Grissom said, after a few very tense moments of silence passed.
"I am." replied Sara, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. "I sent you a postcard."
"Through the mail?"
"How did you want me to get it to you? Fax?"
"I never check my mail." Replied Grissom stiffly.
Sara narrowed her eyes as Grissom came around from behind his desk to stand next to her in the doorway. It's too bad that this was September, and not December when the mistletoe would have been hanging there, above the two of them standing in the door way. After a second, Grissom moved through to the other side and into the hallway, leaving Sara to follow him off to the break room, where everyone knows your name, even if they aren't even on the same shift as you.
Nick and Warrick sat on one side of the couch in the break room, with Greg on the far other side. Nick and Warrick seemed to be trying to get as far away from him as possible, due to the strange odor coming from his clothes since he hadn't left the lab since June. Due to this circumstance of not being able to leave the building, Greg was always caught up on his work, something that everyone else enjoyed to the fullest.
"Good to be back again?" Grissom asked the group, making a B-line to the coffee pot.
"Um, Griss? Some of us never left." Greg pointed out, but Grissom didn't seem to notice that he was speaking.
"Where's Catherine?" Warrick asked, noting that she was the only one not at the pow-wow.
Grissom looked up from his coffee. "She's not here?"
"No, she hasn't been in for the last week or so." Greg stated, "Trust me, I know who is here and who isn't."
As if on cue, the door swung open and Catherine came waltzing into the room, brandishing a large assortment of shopping bags and an 'I heart NY' t-shirt.
"Where have you been?" Grissom demanded, sitting down at the table in the break room.
"What do you mean, where have I been? I've been in New York." Catherine wasn't amused at the fact that Grissom had lost track of her.
"Why were you in New York?" Nick asked, as Greg slid over to make room for Catherine on the couch. Nick bit his lower lip, and looked like he was going to vomit all over the floor.
"I just got back from taking Lindsey to look at colleges." Catherine sat down on the couch next to Greg, and opened the first shopping bad and began to distribute 'I heart NY' t-shirts to everyone.
"Catherine, Lindsey's only nine." Sara said, as she took a t-shirt from Catherine and slipped it on. She was still a little bit cold from being stuck outside for three hours, and then entering the air-conditioned lab. Even though the t-shirt was not thick, but rather quite flimsily (since Catherine had bought it on the streets, ten t-shirts for five dollars, A real bargain.), Sara felt warmer wearing it.
"I thought she was twelve." Greg eagerly took a t-shirt from Catherine, removed the one he was wearing, and then slipped the NY one over his head. To him, it felt good to be in new, clean clothing. He tossed his old shirt towards the garbage where it belonged.
"Lindsey is very old for her age," Catherine distributed the rest of the t-shirts around, ending the conversation about Lindsey's age, leaving everyone to speculate exactly how old her eight-year-old-girl-in-the-second-season really was.
"Right. So, onto tonight's case," Grissom took out the paper that he had shoved into his pocket earlier about the four-nineteen that had been discovered on some street in Vegas a good three hours earlier, when it was still light. But now it was dark, and as Grissom pulled out the piece of paper, he was surprised to find that it wasn't the case log.
"I've been promoted. Neiner, neiner, poopy-poo. Hugs and kisses, Ecklie. What the…?" Grissom read aloud. "This doesn't make any sense."
"Yeah, I didn't know that Ecklie still worked here." Nick posed aloud, scratching his chin thoughtfully.
"Nah, he still works here. I often times see him in the basement playing pool." Warrick shrugged.
"We have a basement?" Greg wondered, but no one else seemed to care. "Why didn't I know that?"
"If he's really been promoted, that means that his position is open…" Catherine trailed off, deep in thought.
"Hey, if anyone is going to get a promotion, it's going to be ME." Nick jumped in, as the strings on his heart tugged at the fact that the promotion he was going to get was cut. It still pained him to think about it.
"If there is really a promotion in the works, I think that I should be the first to receive it, considering that I haven't left the lab in a long time. As far as I see it, I've paid my dues, and it would be good to see sunlight again." The same expression that Catherine had on her face now came over Greg.
"People, we are trying to run a crime lab here. Not a promotional dispatch." Grissom said, shaking his head. "If we acted like this all of the time, people would be moving around all of the time. No one would ever settle down and solve the crimes. Sara and Nick would always be bickering; Greg would always be trying to climb the promotional ladder, and Catherine would always be trying to one up me. We can't function like that."
Warrick slowly raised his hand into the air like a nervous second grader trying to answer the multiplication problem. "Grissom? What about me?"
Grissom spun around to face in Warrick's direction, narrowed his eyes, and then removed his glasses. "Warrick, you are the chosen one. Remember?"
"But…but you haven't brought that fact up in a really long time." Warrick replied, still sounded nervous like he was scared Grissom would give him detention.
"Just because it's not brought up in conversation doesn't mean that it's still not there. Where would we be without speculation? Subtext? Reading between the lines? We would be nowhere, Warrick. And no where isn't someplace I want to be." Grissom placed his glasses back on, and turned to freshen up his coffee pot.
"Um, what just happened here?" Greg leaned over to ask Nick.
"I'm not sure." Nick replied, just as befuddled.
Grissom slapped his hands together, "Okay! Let's go catch some bad guys!" he took another swig of the coffee, and then rushed out of the room like a linebacker rushing out onto the football field. Catherine, Warrick, Nick, Sara and Greg watched him run down the hallway.
The five of them exchanged perplexed looks. It was finally Catherine who moved from her stop and walked over to the coffee pot. She picked it up, and dumped its contents out into the sink there, and then bent down to smell the coffee she had just poured out.
"Okay, who spiked the coffee with Red Bull?" She asked, turning around to face the remaining people in the room.
"I've been on vacation." Sara noted.
"Don't think it was me, I've been in the basement this whole time." Warrick said, going over to stand next to Sara, as both of their gazes drifted towards Nick and Greg.
"When was the last time I left the lab?" Greg asked, standing up from the couch. "How exactly would I have gotten my hands on a Red Bull?"
"I only shop at organic supermarkets." Nick announced from his spot still on the couch.
"Well, someone spiked the coffee, and I can tell you that it wasn't me. I don't want a hyper-Grissom, just like the rest of you." Said Catherine, as Grissom looped around passed the break room, and kept on running. He was now waving his hands madly in the air and trying to get the other lab personnel to join him. None of them looked to eager to do so.
"Do you think this is a sign? From the gods?" Greg pressed his face against the glass wall of the room and peered out to see Grissom come running by again.
"I think this is just a sign to tell us to brace ourselves." Sara mumbled as she peered into the sink herself. "It's going to be a very long year."
"Why? Because you never know who's going to spike the coffee next?" Nick questioned as he walked over next to Greg to peer out at Grissom, who now had Hodges running behind him around the lab.
"No one spiked the coffee. The Red Bull was already in the sink." Sara stated as she waved an empty can of the energy drink that she had just discovered in the trash. "I have a feeling that we are going to have to deal with this kind of stuff all year."
"Lord help us." Warrick said, gazing skyward.
"Amen." Catherine, Greg, Nick and Sara chimed after him. The five of them left the lab as Grissom came running by one more time, but this time they joined on behind him, running ragged through the lab, waving their arms madly in the air, and not caring about what anyone else thought or said. Deep down inside, they knew that this was only the beginning of the madness yet to come.
THE END