The air in the waiting room was tense. Palpably so. Russell was pacing back and forth, one hand holding a cup of cold, un-sipped coffee, the other mindlessly fidgeting with that little rubber ball he usually kept in his office. Morgan was sitting down on the couch shaking her leg and looking at the clock every 5 seconds. Finn remained still, frozen almost, until her eyes were drawn to the T.V. in the corner of the room.
"Vultures." She said and let out a frustrated laugh. Russell and Morgan turned to her. She pointed to the screen, which was showing coverage of the accident.
"Hey! Turn that up, would you?" Russell asked Morgan who was sitting closest to the remote.
… looking down at what remains from the brutal accident that occurred just a few hours ago along the I-215. The collision occurred when the westbound Jeep Wrangler, driver unknown, impacted the drivers side of the GMC Denali which was traveling eastbound. We have been notified that the Denali belongs to the Las Vegas police department and the two injured passengers are, in fact, civil servants. The identities of the officers will not be released until a later date but we have it under good authority that the driver of the vehicle sustained minimal injury, while the passenger is in critical condition. This is Paula Francis reporting for 8 news now.
"Who leaked it?" Morgan asked, now out of her chair.
"I don't know. I don't know, but listen," Russell said, reaching for the remote in Morgan's hand. "the media isn't our concern. Don't give it another thought." He pointed the remote at the T.V. and changed the channel. Just then, his cell phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and put it to his ear. "This is Russell… Okay… Conrad, I'm sure you can understand that… Fine… No. I understand, sir." He hung up the phone and turned to Finn and Morgan. "We're not the only ones who saw the news. The story's hot, the undersheriff wants us to start processing the scene. Right now. He wants answers."
"You want both of us out there?" Morgan asked.
"Yeah." Russell said, visibly frustrated with the circumstances.
They grabbed their coats and exited the waiting area, brushing shoulders with Nick on the way out. "You guys leaving?" He asked.
"Yeah." Morgan said unenthusiastically.
"Keep in touch." Finn said before the two exited the room, leaving Russell and Nick standing alone in the waiting area.
"Is he on his way?" Russell asked.
"Any minute now." Nick walked to the couch and let out a long exhale as he sat down. He put his head in his hands.
"I've never met him." Russell said. Nick looked up. "Grissom, I mean."
"I haven't seen him in," He thought a moment. "4 years. Not since he left CSI. He's called a few times."
Their conversation were interrupted by the two men entering the waiting room. Greg, and a man with short, gray, curly hair and a goatee. The man was wearing jeans and a brown, loose button up shirt. He was slightly large around the stomach and quite tall. Nick was the first to move, he approached Grissom with an extended arm, which Grissom would have used to pull in for a hug if it weren't for the circumstances.
"Good to see you, Nicky." Grissom said, shaking his hand.
"You too." Nick said, chocking up only slightly.
"You must be Russell. Gil Grissom." He introduced himself. He was visibly tired and shook up. He had bags of deep gray under his eyes and his eyes themselves seemed to have been drained of absolutely all life.
"Great to meet you. I've heard so much." The two men shook hands.
"Where is she?" Grissom asked.
"I'll take you." Nick offered.