Chapter 2: Professor Grissom

September 16, 1994.

This was Grissom's first day teaching at the seminary at the University of San Francisco. Work at the headquarters had gotten to him really hard, and his yearly migraine had been particularly acute this time. He entered into the classroom, introduced himself and begun the class. There were at least 100 students in that big room, all of them interested – at least to some degree- in what he had to say. After all, they were all professionals and they all were there by their own will. It was impossible to distinguish one student from the other, let alone memorizing their names and their faces. But that didn't matter to him: much to the contrary, he felt relieved about the fact that he wasn't obligated to make personal contact with each one of them. Grissom in one corner, them in the other, that's the way he liked it.

However, he couldn't help but notice a girl sitting in the last chair, in a dark corner, far from the rest. Taking notes sometimes, looking at him sometimes, always silent and paying all of her attention. During his whole exposition he was aware of her gaze and her presence and that bugged him somewhat – anyway, he tried to ignore it. But no matter how hard he tried, he ended up looking at the girl in the corner with jeans, a purple blouse, brown hair in a pigtail and brown eyes to match. That was making him uncomfortable, so he kept taking questions from students and having other things in mind to avoid the feeling that came with that gaze.

The class ended and the classroom got empty as he picked up his papers and his stuff. Just as he was going to leave, a voice called him:

- Professor Grissom?

It gave the guy the scare of his life. He turned to look, and it was precisely that girl of the corner. She apologized ("that's fine, no problem") and she introduced herself: her name was Sara. "Like the butterfly…" Grissom said, and she smiled and nodded.

She came to him with a lot of questions about his exposition, but she didn't ask in class because the other students were bombarding him already. He invited her for a walk around the campus as he explained to her everything she needed to know, ignoring the inquisitive looks all the other students gave to them. Eventually he found out (after looking at her student card) that was her birthday, so he took his Insect Album and gave her the picture of the Heliconius Sara – or Sara Longwing -as an improvised, casual gift.

For the rest of the day, he went on giving his lectures like nothing had happened but a wide, content smile had formed on his face and didn't get erased. He had made her promise she would come back to him everyday after class to ask him anything she had doubts about or anything she may want to know more about. Normally, he would be doing research about cockroaches or venomous spiders, but now, for the first time in his life, he thought it would be interesting to know more about something beautiful. So he spent the whole night googling, reading and drawing sketches of the Sara Longwing.

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5 years later

Catherine was talking to the whole team: Warrick, Nick, Brass… even Greg was there. Normally they wouldn't be doing it, but this gossip was J-U-I-C-Y, really something never heard of before.

- Brass, don't you think it's too suspicious that Grissom actually takes his vacations since 5 years ago? And he always takes them around the same time, which is September… when summer's over, for God's sake! And I tell you: everyday, when shift's over, he calls somebody from his cell phone and spends an eternity on the phone…

- And what does he say? Does it sound like a dirty talk or something? – asked Greg

- Well… no. He's all business – Catherine responded - talking about bugs and forensics and work… but it's not about what he says, it's about how he says it. People, his voice is puuuure sugar and honey… the other day I heard him say "you gotta take care of that wound honey, you gotta see a doctor…" I mean, when does he call somebody "honey"? and when has he cared about any of us seeing a doctor or not?

- Catherine, it could mean anything. We don't even who's the person at the other side of the phone.

- Maybe you don't know, but I do. I asked him who was he talking to, and he said I was a student from the seminar he went to – oh coincidence! – 5 years ago. Then I asked him if she was really just a student and if she was then why did he call her everyday after the shift, and he said she was an excellent student and she was in some kind of project, so he asessed her; and then he was in some kind of project (?) and needed her help with physics (because she has a major in physics, gentlemen! and from Harvard!) and then something happened with her arm of her leg or whatever and he was worried (worried? That's the most anti-Grissom thing I've ever heard) and to make a long story short, if there's no excuse he makes up one so they can keep in touch. And then we kept talking about her, and at one point he told me the day he started giving his lectures was – OH COINCIDENCE!!! –her birthday, and he gave her the Sara Longwing picture from his Insect Album because that's the brat's name…

- Wow… but… anyway, a stamp is a very insignificant gift – said Nick, not totally convinced.

- Insignificant???!!! The Insect Album is one of Grissom's most precious things!!! He felt violated when I tried to take a sneak peak!!! It took him 10 years to complete the album, and 3 of them were looking for that Sara Butterfly picture "because that's the difficult one" and at the end, he got it – not without trouble – from a dealer of dubious reputation for U$100!!! – and then he just… gives it to that brat as soon as he meets her because "she has the same name as the butterfly…" this is something else – said a very smiling Catherine – our prayers have been answered. Gentlemen: The Lone Entomologist is in sweet wuv!!! Mua, mua, mua!!! –and everybody laughed with her.

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Well, this was the second chapter, thanks to everyone for your reviews. Sorry for any spelling mistakes: English is not my second language. I know this may seem like it doesn't make sense, but it will, trust me.