A/N: Yes, the new one from me. :) See previous chapter for disclaimer. RIU does not exist either in real life. New to this chapter- my beta! Much thanks to lostladyknight. Oh, and I know Greg (in this chapter) seems really stiff and out of character, but bear with me. Song at the end of the chapter is "Landing in London" by 3 Doors Down. Enjoy!

New Guy's First Night in Vegas

Ecklie walks into my office and clears his throat. "File on your new CSI," he says, putting it down in front of me. I groan.

"Conrad, he's going to be here in twenty minutes," I say. I know he knows that, because he's the one that told me. "Why am I just getting this now?"

"My secretary's a little slow. I told her to send it earlier in the week, when I got it. I saw it on her desk tonight and personally walked it over to you." I nod, even though I know a lot of what he just said was bullshit.

"Thanks, Conrad."

"Not a problem, Gil. I'm just sorry it's getting here this late." I nod, and he leaves. I shake my head, taking the time I have left to look at his file.

"Greg Sanders," I read aloud. The same as the one that left here? "Couldn't be." I barely get a chance to open the file when I hear a voice coming from the door.

"Do I have to donate again?" I look up to find Greg standing in my doorway, a sight I haven't seen in three years. Only this time, instead of the wacky T-shirts and weird hair, he's wearing a polo, slacks, and sensibly cut hair. When did this happen?

"You're new here," I tell him. He nods his understanding.

"Well, I'm glad I wore this shirt, then." He sits and rolls up his sleeve, and I take some of his blood. I sit behind my desk.

"How are you, Greg?" From the looks of things, he hasn't done all that well since he left. He's lost weight, which I wasn't sure was possible and I'm sure it's not healthy, and some things just seem off about him.

"I'm okay," he says, somewhat honestly. "How are you?"

"I'm good. Welcome back." I flip through his file as he sits back, looking a little more comfortable. "You're still a CSI 2, right?" I look up at him.

"Yep." I look back at his file, reading the page that lists his qualifications and his supervisor's recommendations.

"Looks like you're more than qualified to be a CSI 3. Why aren't you?" I look up at him again and watch as he becomes a little guarded.

"Politics," he says succinctly, and I say nothing more, turning back to his supervisor's remarks.

"Lakeland says you were better than every other CSI they had. Why'd they let you go?" He shrugs.

"Ronnie said something about Lakeland not wanting to hold me back." I look at him as he watches me. Something in his voice says otherwise.

"You don't believe him." He shrugs again.

"I don't believe it really matters now that I'm here. I didn't do anything wrong, and I left on a good note with them." I nod, watching him. Something's really wrong with him. I look back at his file.

"You worked there for two and a half years?" He nods. "You left here three years ago. What happened in those six months?"

"Stuff… life…"

"You're being evasive."

"Let it go."

"I can't, Greg. I can't let you out there if you're unstable."

"I'm not unstable. I just don't want to talk about it." I shrug, deciding to take another route.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"You don't look so good." He sighs.

"I'll be honest, sir. I've been through a lot these past three years. I'm not quite ready to get into all the specifics, but I will soon. I promise." I nod, not quite satisfied with his answer but knowing that I'm not going to get much more out of him. He sits in silence as I read over his file. "If it's not saying so much, it looks like you haven't even read my file."

"Didn't get much of a chance," I tell him. "Ecklie brought it over ten minutes before you showed up."

"Sorry."

"Why? You didn't do anything." He sighs.

"They still hate me?" he asks softly. His tone hints that he regrets the way things went down, and I realize at this moment that I have picked up a thing or two from my wife.

"We never hated you, Greg."

"Fine. Are you guys still mad at me?" I shrug.

"When was the last time you talked to any of us?"

"I saw Warrick and Nick at the Miami conference last month. I'm sure they didn't tell you guys they saw me, though."

"No, they didn't."

"I can't say that I blame them." I shrug. "Nick asked if I was still running away."

"Are you?"

"I wasn't exactly running away in the first place." I arch my eyebrows, confused. "Away means I was trying to escape from something, but I loved it here."

"Then why'd you leave?"

"I'm not ready to talk about it, sir."

"Greg, call me Grissom or Gris or even Gil for all I care. Please, stop calling me 'sir'."

"Okay." I glance at his file again.

"You're qualified enough to be a CSI 3," I reiterate to him. "But I don't think promoting you as soon as you get here is a good idea, so it'll be a little time and a proficiency before you get there." He nods. "Before we go meet the others, I have one more question."

"Okay."

"This is a permanent change, right? You're not just going to up and leave again?"

"No. I'm sorry about the way things went down before, and I regret leaving like that. I promise that I won't do it again." I nod.

"Okay. Let's go, then." We leave my office and head for the break room. "So, why Rhode Island?" He shrugs and keeps his mouth shut. "That fall under what you won't talk about?" He nods. "What was it like out there?"

"Man, their busy nights were nothing. Slow nights here are worse. I had a lot of time to write my thesis and do other things. Got my master's degree out there."

"Congratulations."

"Thank you."

"Where'd you get it from?"

"RIU." I nod. "They have a pretty good program. I wrote my master's thesis, had it accepted, and then presented it again in Miami."

"Did you see Nick and Warrick's presentation? They had a good one."

"Yeah, I saw theirs. It was great. I don't remember if they stuck around for mine."

"I wouldn't know." I didn't even know they saw one another there. He nods, and we reach the break room. He pauses. "Let's go."

"Uh, you first," he says nervously. "Test the waters, set me up." I shrug.

"Whatever, Greg." I walk into the break room. Nick turns to see me alone.

"I thought we were getting a new guy tonight," he says. The others turn to see that I'm alone.

"We are," I tell him. "He's a little shy."

"You take his blood?"

"Of course."

"What's he like?"

"Experienced Level 2, over qualified for Level 3."

"Then why isn't he already a Level 3?" Catherine asks.

"He said something about politics," I tell her.

"Where is he?" I poke my head out of the room.

"Your public awaits," I tell Greg, opening the door wider for him. He walks in, and everyone in the room stares in silence. And for about five minutes, the room is silent and no one moves until Nick gets up and walks over to Greg. He pinches him, and Greg yelps.

"Oww," he groans. Nick smiles.

"You're really here," he says.

"Yeah. Did you have to pinch me so hard?" Greg rubs his right arm, frowning.

"I barely touched you, Greggo."

"Yeah, well, there's not as much of me as there used to be."

"When the hell did you get married?" Catherine asks. Greg stops rubbing his arm and starts playing with the ring on his finger, and I furrow my brow. How could I have missed that? Then again, it wasn't like he…

"About the same time Grissom did," he jokes. So he did notice.

"Grissom's been married for what, six months?" Warrick says, looking at me. I nod my confirmation.

"Okay, then I got married before Grissom did." He looks a little pained, though I'm not sure why. Is he not happy with her?

"She come with you?" Nick asks.

"Another story for another time," Greg says evasively. "I'm sure Grissom has work for us."

"You can't answer the question?"

"I'd rather not."

"We have a full load tonight," I interrupt, and Greg shoots me a look that says 'thank you.' I nod. "Nick, you and Greg have a body in the desert. Remember your jackets, because it's cold outside."

"Yes, Daddy," Nick jokes. I ignore his comment.

"Sara, you and Warrick have a robbery at the Tangiers. Catherine and I have a body just off the strip. Let's go." They jump to their feet, all leaving Catherine and myself alone.

"Is it just me, or is something really wrong with Greg?" she asks me softly.

"He admitted he's been through a lot," I tell her. "Other than that, I don't know anything. He wouldn't say." She nods. "Shall we get going?"

"Yeah." We walk out of the break room. "How's Heather doing?"

"Fine, thanks for asking."

"Are you two planning to have kids?" I chuckle.

"I'm too old."

"No you're not. There are women who are having kids in their sixties, when biology says we're supposed to be done in our fifties. If they can do it, you can." I shake my head.

"We might adopt," I confide in her as we walk over to the car.

"That'd be good. The CSI and the dominatrix. If Nick were here, he'd say that sounds like a porno title." I smile as we get in and go to our crime scene.

You've got to understand it's a hard life
That I'm going through
And when the night falls in around me
I don't think I'll make it through

A/N: Reviews, anyone?