"Convergence"

Chapter 3

The next evening, not long before the night shift was to begin, Grissom sat in his office perusing an old case file. Though now solved, it had been one that had originally caused some backtracking and some serious reevaluation of the evidence. He wanted to see how Rachel would approach the case in its unsolved form.

A slight knocking on the door frame got his attention. Greg Sanders stood in the doorway. "Hey Gris. Got your page. Need me to run something?"

"No, actually, I don't. You've heard of the FBI liaison—I want you to meet her."

A grin spread across Greg's face. He caught himself immediately, though it was a little too late and cleared his throat, replying nonchalantly and nodding, "Okay. Sure. From the briefing? No problem."

"Don't get too excited, Greg. She'll be meeting everyone."

"Oh I know… Cool." He continued nodding, attempting to convince Grissom.

"Just make sure you're available in about half an hour, in the conference room, okay?"

"Sure," he then spun around in a quasi-dance move and began walking back down the hall toward his lab.

Grissom chuckled inwardly, and went back to reviewing the file. Shortly thereafter, he heard someone walking down the hall and looked up when the footsteps stopped. "Good evening." Rachel stood in the entryway. "Hi, hope I'm not too early…"

"Come in, Rachel, have a seat. The other CSI's will be around shortly to meet you."

He watched as she entered, took off her coat, and settled into the seat across from his desk. He could tell from her scan of the room that the surroundings interested her.

"Here-- I wanted to go ahead and give you this. Drop by tomorrow evening if you get the chance. I would like to hear your initial impressions then."

"Sure. Thanks. I appreciate it."

"So," he got up and busied himself assembling some blood collection supplies, "are you getting settled in?"

She smiled, slightly shrugging, "Yeah, it's always an adjustment—moving. After my time with the Bureau, though… Well, let's just say I'm getting used to it by now. But I finished moving into my apartment—and am getting acclimated."

"You picked and moved… here to Vegas?"

"Uh, yeah. Seems like I'm always moving. After college it was to Philadelphia, then D.C., then New York, then Denver. But, I was told that I would be staying in Las Vegas, with the local field office, for about a year after this 'experiment' is concluded, so thought 'oh well, why not?' Better than living out of a suitcase like I have been, for…. I don't know how long. Maybe it's time for new roots…" She sighed, watching Grissom move around the room.

She continued, a little anxious to fill the silence, "Everyone seems really nice here. I think I'm going to like working here a lot."

"Good. Glad to hear it. Your office is just around the corner and down the hall, right?"

"Yes. Tech services were quick to get my computer up and running. Even though I don't start for a couple more days, what with orientations and all, I've been trying to get organized and everything. I'm going to finish up after our meeting."

He had sat beside her, and began organizing the materials he had collected. Her left eyebrow shot up quizzically, "What's—going on?" and then laughed a little nervously.

"Collecting your donation. You have already eaten right?"

"Uh--- a few hours ago actually."

"That should be okay. Left arm or right?"

She again laughed, deciding to be a good sport, and began rolling up her sleeve, "Left, please."

"Feel okay?"

She got up slowly, testing her steadiness. "Yeah, I'm good. I usually get a little woozy after donating. Low blood pressure doesn't help. But I actually feel pretty good—this time."

"Good." He tucked the blood collection bag into his mini refrigerator. "Let's go, shall we?"

Sara waited in the conference room impatiently. She glanced out occasionally at Grissom's closed office door. "Chill, Sara," Greg chided. "It's not even time yet." He quickly received a dirty look.

"I have work to do, Greg. I don't have time for social hour."

Cath observed Sara as she walked over to the vending machine to get some chips. It was all too clear that Sara felt threatened. Catherine knew Sara had an interest in Grissom and the feeling didn't seem to be mutual. Add to that, Grissom's slightly critical comment to Sara at assignments the other day and well, it was easy to put together. The girl was pissed, and it looked like the FBI agent was now number one on Sara's hit list.

Grissom opened the door to his office, "I appreciate you coming in to meet us. I guess we'll see you 'officially' on Monday night then."

"Sounds good." Rachel grabbed her coat from the chair and followed Grissom across the hall into the briefing/conference room.

Greg quickly stood, going over the 'stats' silently while Grissom started his introductions with Catherine and Sara. 'Approximately five feet, five inches tall. Oooh, carrying a jacket, black, and leather. Niiiice.' This was the first time Greg had been able to see Rachel up close though. Her face was a fair, pale tone and was a striking contrast to her dark auburn hair. It was wavy and fell to just below her shoulders.

Her eyes met his, and she stood with her head tilted slighted down, her eyeslooking up at him expectantly, smiling slightly. Her eyebrows were arched and her eyes… well, they… they were different. They were almost blue, or were they gray, or even yet were they green?

Rachel continued looking at him, almost confused by his silence to her greeting wondering, 'Did he even hear me?' She glanced at Catherine briefly, smiling, in a silent plead for help.

Catherine slapped his shoulder, "Say hello, Greg."

He snapped out of his trance, "Hello, Greg--- um I mean Agent Elliott,"

"Please—'Rachel' is fine," she smiled genuinely and winked as she shook his hand. "Nice to meet you Greg," and then whispered, as if being conspiratorial, "Archie tells me you're my coffee connection…"

"Oh yeah… absolutely. Your wish is my command."

Sara stepped around Catherine, and tersely interjected, "Grissom, excuse me… I have to get back to my microscope. Nice meeting you, Rachel."

Grissom responded. "Uh, okay. Sure, Sara."

Rachel hurried to respond before Sara swept out of the room. "Thanks. You too. Talk to you later."

Grissom had stepped into the hall to allow Sara to pass and watched her stride down the hallway, and thought silently to himself. He then saw Stokes and Brown coming down the hall. They nodded to Sara as she passed them without words. Nick looked back at her as she continued on without breaking stride.

"Hey Gris, we're here to meet Agent Double-O…, where is she?" Nick asked, slowing down just outside the doorway.

Rachel was still standing just inside the doorway, "Right here," she laughed, extending her hand to Nick as he entered the room, followed by Warrick, "Hi. I'm—"

"Rachel?", Warrick stood staring in disbelief.

Her eyes went from Nick's and locked immediately onto Warrick's face, and she was speechless. Greg, ever the master of the obvious, stood watching with renewed interest, "so, you two… know… each other?"

Rachel quickly managed to recover from her shock, her eyes went from face to face in the room. The truth, or at least mostly the truth was the best when caught completely off guard. "Yeah, actually. We met briefly, at… uh.. in Knoxville, the Body Farm? Summer course with Dr. Bass, before he retired, right?"

Warrick tilted his head back slightly, analyzing. He considered her response, "Yeah." He didn't know what else to add, if anything. His voice deepened a bit. "I think that was it."

She smiled mechanically, and turned to Nick, "Let's try that again…., hi there. Rachel Elliott."

"Hey, Rachel. I'm Nick. How's it going? Ya know, I didn't mean anything bad by the uh, 'double-0' comment."

She chuckled lightly, "No offense taken. Believe me, I'm used to worse…." She suddenly felt overcome and woozy, and touched her hand lightly to her forehead, "Oh…".

"You okay, there Rachel?" Catherine asked concernedly as she stepped forward to take Rachel's elbow. She noticed Rachel's white shirtsleeve had a smear of blood on the inside elbow. "Ah, let me guess, the compulsory blood donation?"

She chuckled lightly in response, "Yeah, something like that… I'm fine—really."

Catherine glared at Grissom. "Couldn't even wait a day?"

He shrugged innocently.

Rachel needed to get back to her office and maintain what dignity she had. Getting dizzy in front of everyone like that. Argh! "Well, I'll get out of your way, I'm sure you're all very busy with cases. So, uh, thanks again Gil, for the, uh case file. I'll be in touch on it."

"Are you sure you're okay?" Gil asked.

"I'm fine. Really. I need to finish up in my office and then I'll head home. Thanks again. Good night."

Rachel reached her office, secured the door behind her and snapped her blinds shut. "I don't believe it…," she wondered breathlessly.

'Okay, pull yourself together, Elliott,' she thought and breathed deeply, slapping the folder on the desk. She moved a box that had been piled in her chair and sank into it. 'You're a professional. It's been over five years. You can handle this. Just be calm, cool and do your job. Professional.'

She snapped back to the here and now when she heard a voice, "Uh, hey there.. uh Rachel."

She looked up and saw Greg tentatively pushing the door open.

"Hi, Greg. What can I do for you?"

"The question is… what can I do for you?" and with a flourish he brought a tall cup of steaming coffee from behind his back, gesturing to it as if it were a prize on a game show. "I know Grissom's whole Dracula gig can really drain ya, 'ba-duh-buh', pun totally intended by the way… so uh.. thought you might feel better if you got a jumbo jolt of java…" He walked over and sat on the corner of her desk.

She couldn't help but laugh a little. "Oh, thanks. You're such a lifesaver," she greedily accepted the coffee and took a sip right away.

"Wow… Nice digs," Greg offered, looking around at the office. Granted, it wasn't quite the size of Grissom's but still… She had a brand new computer, and had brought in several boxes of books, manuals and journals from her personal library to fill her bookcases. "What's this,?" he asked jokingly, referring to a black briefcase, "your sniper rifle?"

"How'd you know that?," she answered seriously, leaning back and taking another sip of coffee. "Well, yes. Actually it is."

Greg's eyes grew large, and Rachel couldn't help but laugh, "...actually the contents are very important. You know, meticulously compiled sources, references, files and the always super important, though top secret personal files…

"Personnel?", he questioned, worried if she had some sort of dossier on him.

She laughed, "No. Per-son-al," and then feigning a serious expression, "Let's keep it just between you and me—but," she dramatically snapped open each clasp to the case, and raised the lid to display an MP3 player, ear buds, and several discs with various labels. "Sometimes I work better if I have music." She laughed, "I'm gonna load them on my computer later too…"

Greg looked like he had went to heaven. "What genre's?"

"You name it. It depends what mood I'm in…. Have a look…"

Rachel felt better after the coffee and relaxed conversation. After several minutes of incessant pleading, she had even relented to loan Greg a couple of her music file backup discs. Alone in her office again, she couldn't help but smile at him. She sighed deeply, gathered her belongings and went home.