Chapter 4! YEAH!! Hope you like it!
Disclamier: don't own CSI...
Greg took a breath and knocked on the wooden door marked 18C. A moment passed before Emily opened the door, wearing a shocked expression. Greg took a look at the woman in front of him, dressed in black sweatpants, and an oversized gray sweatshirt. Her hair was pulled back into it normal ponytail, but the glasses had been replaced with contacts.
"Grissom wanted me to come over and check in on you. Make sure your move went well," Greg said pushing past Emily in the doorway, walking into her newly found apartment which bared the smell of paint.
It had been a week since she got to Vegas and happily moved out of the hotel into her own place. Work got easier, but her relationship was Greg only got more difficult.
"Well, I'm doing fine. Just finishing unpacking the last few boxes," she stated, placing her hands on her hips defensively, "Would you like anything…to drink…?"
"Yeah, I'll have some water," he replied absent mindedly as he drifted to a slightly opened door.
Emily retreated to the kitchen, as Greg pushed through the door which led to her bedroom. To his right was a closet and a bathroom, and looking to his left was a dresser, many windows which filled the room with sunshine. Straight ahead was a full sized bed covered in a green and blue quilted bedspread. Turning to the dresser, he saw many picture frames on top. He pulled one down in particular. It showed a picture of a younger looking Emily, and another young looking girl sitting on top of a black Steinway grand piano. His thoughts wandered at what this picture meant.
"What are you doing in here? This is my room," Emily yelled at him, "Get out!"
Greg placed the picture back on the dresser and pushed his hands into his pockets, retreating back to the other room. Emily handed him his water as he continued to look around. He saw a small black coach, two black chairs which contrasted greatly to the yellow walls. There was bookcase after bookcase filled with many different colored and bound books, but what caught his attention most was a nicely kept keyboard partially wrapped in brown paper, leaning against the far wall covered in windows.
"You play, Mozart?" he asked turning back towards Emily, in hopes it would lead to an explanation of the picture.
She heisted before she answered.
"I used too, not anymore," she replied quietly.
"Why, not?" he pushed.
"I just don't play anymore," she answered quickly trying to move on to a new subject.
"Why not just get rid of it then. I'll take it down to garbage when I leave," Greg said making a grab for it.
"No!" she screamed running for him.
"Okay, I'll donate it to Good Will then," Greg whispered, holding it out of her reach, "why keep it around if you don't play, it just takes up space."
The room was quiet for a moment.
"Fine, take it," she said giving in, not wanting to explain to the man who would tease her every day about it.
"Well I should get out of your way," Greg said smiling playfully.
She stood still, as he moved around her carrying her keyboard with him. She heard the door open behind her.
"Bye Mozart," he yelled to her, before slamming the door behind him.
"Look who's late again," Greg announced loudly, as Emily walked quietly into the conference room to get a cup of tea.
Sara Sidle and Warrick Brown, where also present in the room, but where buried in their most recent case, but the loudness of Greg's voice brought their attention to Emily.
"Out late party animal, or where you with someone?" Greg asked, placing his feet atop the table.
Emily kept her back to him, as she filled a mug with water, placing it into the microwave.
"Oh, come on. A young good looking girl like you is probably out with a different guy every night," Greg stated, "and sleeping with a different guy too."
"That's a little out of line Greg," Warrick butted in, leaning back from the file he had been reading.
Emily remained quite as she watched her mug travel in circles inside the microwave. She wanted so badly to turn around and yell at him. To tell him everything about her, so that he would stop making up stories about her life. But fear always took over, and standing up to him was not an option.
"Well it's probably true Warrick. Forgot to set her alarm because she was drunk and a little preoccupied if you know what I mean." He explained.
"What is wrong with you Greg?" Sara asked standing up to leave, "Leave the poor girl alone."
The microwave beeped and Emily grabbed her mug, not thinking about how hot it would be- she just wanted out of there-screamed and dropped it. It shattered to the ground, spilling hot water everywhere. Greg flinched throwing his feet off the table; about to jump up to check Emily's burned hand, but remembered the plan.
"Emily!" Warrick yelled running over to her.
She knelt down to pick up the mug, but Warrick grabbed her arm pulling her back up.
"I'll take care of this, you go run that under cold water," he told her, looking down at her read blistered hand.
Emily ran to the bathroom, in attempts to get there before the tears escaped her eyes from the pain of her hand. Pushing through the ladies room door, she turned the knob for cold water and placed her injured hand under the flow. Relief from the searing pain was instant, as the water washed over her hand. Looking up into the dirty mirror she saw her makeup running down her checks, leaving black stains. She reached for a paper towel with her good hand, and whipped away the tears. Two weeks ago, she was an excited young woman, feeling pretty confident about starting her new life, but as she looked into the mirror, she saw someone she didn't know. A woman, who was scared, stressed and unhappy, she didn't want this, but she didn't know how to fix it.
New chapter up later! Review please!
