Sunday, May 5 2009 11:30 PM

Supervisor of the night shift Gilbert Grissom looked over the two slips of paper in his hand and sighed. Both slip held a different crime scene with different circumstances, but both were, unfortunately, 419s. Dead human bodies. He sighed again, it always astounded him how they could catch one killer and then two more would appear. It sometimes got to the point where he would wonder if what they were doing was actually worth it. Grissom shook his head to clear out the depressing train of thought and walked out of his office and down the hall into the conference room where the rest of his team was waiting for him, "Catharine," he starts.

"What'd you got for me Gil?" she says with a half smile

Grissom holds out one of the slips of paper, "419 over on Figueroa. Body of a woman found nude on someone's front lawn. He hands Catharine the paper before turning. "Warrick," he addressed the dark skinned CSI "male DB found at the Rampart casino. This one is particularly gruesome so be careful."

Grissom holds out the second slip of paper and Warrick takes it, "Got it Gil," he turns to look at his friend, "Let's go Nicky."

"Actually, I need Nick to stay here." Nick, who was halfway out of his chair, looked at Grissom curiously. "Greg is swamped with over two dozen cases and, against my better judgement and lab polocy, has just started a quadruple," Grissom explained, "Since it is a relatively slow night I thought we could give him a hand"

Nick's expression turned from confused to understanding to concern in less time than a traffic light, "A quadruple?" He cast his eyes around to the other three concerned faces, "How is he still functioning?"

Grissom shrugged his shoulders, "Commitment?" he said lamely

Catharine looked at him skeptically, "There's commitment and then there's just plain crazy." She stood up, concern still visible in her eyes and turned to Warrick, "Well come on Warrick." She motioned toward the door with the paper. Warrick followed a little reluctantly. It was evident that both of the CSIs were worried about there resident lab rat, but since nothing could be done they decided to get on with there cases. Catharine was partially out the door before she turned around and stuck his head back in.

"Hey Gris tell Sanders to take it easy. I mean we appreciate him working so hard but if he doesn't take a break all that work is gonna kill him."

Grissom smiled as he watched her disappear. As soon as she was gone however it disappeared too. He was also worried about their lab tech.

"Hey Griss," Grissom turned to see Nick staring at him, the young texans dark brown eyes demanding answers, "What's going on?"

"I don't know Nick," the other man took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, "I really don't know."

"Well have you talked to him?"

"Every time I try he says he's fine and changes the subject." Grissom sighed and put his glasses back on, "and if he doesn't want to talk about it we can't make him."

"But Griss..."

Grissom lifted up his hand, "I'm worried about him too Nick and I have every intention to figure out what's really going on, but forcing him to tell us now when he is obviously both physically and mentally exhausted won't get us anywhere. He'll need to come to us." Nick looked like he was about to protest so Grissom quickly added, "I am however going to make sure he takes some of that two weeks of vacation time he has saved up."

Nick didn't look satisfied but he didn't push the issue. Instead he walked out of the conference room and into one of the labs. Grissom stood there for a minute before following. He wasn't satisfied with the answers he had given Nick either, but there was nothing he could do. It wasn't as if he could make Greg do anything, the kid had a mind of his own, which was evident with his decision to come in today even though he wouldn't be getting paid. He looked through the glass wall of the lab to see the spiky haired lab tech looking through one of the scopes. It was true that he had no idea what was wrong with Greg, but he had recently found out the reason for the boy's inability to go home. Someone was after him.

Grissom ran his hands through his hair. As soon as he had heard about Greg's suspicions he had wanted to put the younger man under protective custody and have the others investigate, but Greg practically begged him not to. Greg had never looked so desperate before so Grissom had let him stay here, working of course, and had agreed not to tell the others until he was certain he was in danger.

Grissom didn't know it but he would soon regret not sending Greg home.