MALICIOUS INTENT

Chapter Seven

"This letter feels very different," said Mac.

Stella pursed her lips. "I'm inclined to agree."

The two of them were standing in the doorway of the tiny first aid room, which was tucked into an awkward corner of the lab, right next to the kitchen. Accidents were surprisingly few and far between, but the room was mandatory - even though it was little more than a narrow bed, a sink and a well-stocked kit. Perched on the very edge of the bed and feeling highly ridiculous, Adam stuck out his tongue like an obedient puppy and tried not to stare at Sheldon, whose face was so close to his own that the lab tech was filled with an irrational urge to punch him. Or maybe just giggle. He wasn't entirely sure.

Mac passed the note back to his colleague. "Where's the red envelope?" he continued. "And the expensive paper? This one feels more like an after-thought. Our nasty friend wrote it in a hurry and simply stuck it into Adam's pocket when he wasn't wearing the lab coat. It isn't even original - just an obscure children's rhyme."

"Maybe Adam isn't a proper target," suggested Sheldon, shining a pen-light into his patient's mouth to check the state of his wound. Mac had briefed the doctor as soon as Stella had called them both to Adam's aid. Sheldon had been suitably horrified - and a little upset that no one had told him before.

"That makes sense," put in Stella. "This note isn't bitter or defamatory like the others. It's more of a statement. Cause and effect. Adam told us what was going on, and now he's been punished."

"Grea'," the lab rat mumbled, as Sheldon released his tongue. "Tho', wha' happeth if I ge' a'other le'er?"

For a moment, nobody answered. Mac looked thoughtful. "Only you can make that decision," he said at last. "But Adam, your instincts are good. Look back at your actions over the last few days."

"I have." Adam shook his head unhappily.

His boss gave a patient smile. "Look again. First of all, you tried to protect Stella's feelings and take the whole burden upon yourself." Standing by his side, the woman nodded vigorously. "Then, when you knew that the danger was real, and that someone else might get hurt as well, you came to me. Not to mention that, when Flack was angry with Danny, you stood up to both of us and defended your friend. What more could anyone ask?"

Adam stared at his boss in disbelief. So many words, and all of them kind. The sense of belonging that had disappeared from his world in the last few weeks came flooding back as he looked at the faces all around him. "Tha'k you," he sighed.

With a gentle hand, Sheldon took a couple of antiseptic wipes and began to clean the gore from his mouth and chin. "Your tongue will be fine, by the way. I'm not even going to glue the cut. It's stopped bleeding since we rinsed your mouth out, and it isn't terribly deep. So there's no need to worry."

Adam made a noise that sounded suspiciously like 'wuth'.

"You're not a wuss," said Sheldon firmly. "That kind of fright would knock anyone sideways. Plus, a wound to the mouth always generates a surprising amount of blood. You look like a vampire, by the way," he added, grinning. Adam flushed and hid his own smile behind Sheldon's ministrations.

When he had finally finished, the doctor disposed of the wipes and turned to Mac. "Now, I don't pretend to understand what's going on here. And according to you, no one has been seriously hurt - no offence, Adam. But these jokes, or whatever they are, have been downright nasty. Someone in this lab has a wicked sense of humour - and not in a good way. Any idea who it might be?"

"Sadly, no." Mac frowned.

"Not yet," Stella added.

Adam hopped off the bed and stood up, wobbling slightly. "Ca' I go back to work?" he said, trying hard not to lisp - or drool.

Sheldon raised his eyebrows and turned back to the lab tech. "I wouldn't advise it. Take a day off. You must have a few to spare. You're always here..."

Adam pulled a woeful face, trying to melt Sheldon's heart. He would have succeeded, too - but Mac was made of sterner stuff. "Doctor's orders," he said. "Get some rest. You look exhausted and, by your own admission, you've not been sleeping. We'll see you on Monday, and not before. Not before," he repeated, catching the mutinous look in the young man's eyes. "Collect your bag and your coat. I'm driving you home."

They parted to let the lab rat pass. Adam trotted out of the tiny room, muttering under his breath about the unfairness of things. Stella held back her laughter until he had vanished around the corner.

"Oh! poor Adam," she gasped, with her hand pressed against her lips.

"He does have a point," argued Sheldon. "You came back after only a day."

They both stared at Mac, whose expression was serene. "I was taught to choose my battles wisely. That one?" He shrugged his shoulders. "It was unwinnable."

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With Adam safely tucked away at home, the crime lab attempted to return to normal. Sheldon went back to Ballistics, where he had been working upon three different weapons from a shootout in the Bronx. It was noisy work and, for a while, he didn't pay much attention to his surroundings. Firing all three guns into the water tank, one at a time, he fished out the bullets after each shot and moved across the room with the full set in order to begin comparing striations.

That was when he heard them.

Standing around the table in the next room, and gossiping over their work. A group of three or more lab techs, judging by their voices. He recognised one of them straight away - a loud mouthed giant of a man who seemed to find pleasure in stirring up trouble for everyone else around him. Fortunately, he had been given his notice during the budget cuts and was leaving in a week. If not, it was likely that Mac would have fired him anyway before too long, simply for his insubordinate behaviour. Malcontents were not popular at the lab, and soon moved on.

Sheldon listened quietly.

"Did you see Ross running for the bathroom like a baby?" sneered the tall man. "Bonasera told him off and it looked like he was gonna hurl. Wonder if he made it in time? I'd hate to be the cleaning crew on that one."

"That's not what happened," a girl's voice cut in, softer and yet more determined. "He hurt himself, or something. That's what I heard, anyway. Bit his tongue."

"Broke a pen in his mouth, more like," said a third voice scornfully. Clearly, this man had no time for Adam either. "Talk about an oral fixation."

Moving closer to the doorway, Sheldon peered through the glass without being seen by the little group. Now he knew them all. Anthony, Elsa and... what was the third one's name? Oh, yes. Jacob. Poor Elsa was looking visibly distressed at the whole tone of the conversation. Anthony watched her face with cunning attention.

"Weren't you hanging around with him yesterday? Eating chocolate and giggling together by the vending machine? Got a girly crush on the weirdo, have you?"

"I like Adam," Elsa protested, trying to stand up for herself and her friend. "What's wrong with that? Why is everyone picking on him, all of a sudden?"

"I heard he's been getting some kind of anonymous hate mail." Jacob's face was nonchalant, but his eyes were sharp. "Or maybe they're love letters. Are you stalking him, Elsa? You can tell us..."

Both men stared at her. Elsa turned crimson - just as Sheldon stepped into the room. With perfect calm, he stared at the three of them until their eyes dropped and the girl's face filled with shame.

"Elsa," he said. "A word."

Walking steadily through the room, taking his time, Sheldon headed out of the doorway and waited in the corridor for the young woman to join him. She stood in front of the doctor, her hands rammed into her pockets and her round face pale beneath the startling mass of freckles.

"Are you all right?" asked Sheldon quietly.

"Those jerks," spat Elsa. Then the lab tech remembered where she was. "I'm fine," she added, hastily. "Nothing I can't handle. They're always like that, you know."

"I know." Sheldon glanced through the window at the two men, who were bending over their work and looking virtuous, as though they had never spoken a malicious word in their lives. "And I'm sure that telling tales won't help you very much." Wincing, he thought of Adam. "But remember - I'm just around the corner if you need anything. And Mac's door is always open. He cares about his staff. The ones who deserve it, anyway..." Again, his eyes strayed back to Jacob and Anthony.

Elsa managed a weary smile. "Thank you, Doctor Hawkes. I appreciate that." With a sigh of resignation, she headed back into the room. Sheldon watched her go.

What on earth was going on around here? How did so much bad feeling rise up in such a short space of time? Was it the budget cuts? Or was there a far more sinister reason?

Whatever it was, it made him feel sick to his stomach.

Sheldon passed back through to Ballistics and carried on with his investigation, one ear trained on the room next door - but, for the rest of the morning, the lab techs never uttered another word.

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A/N: Please forgive any lapses in medical knowledge. I tried to be logical. Also, I thought it was highly likely that the Crime Lab would have to have a first aid area of some kind. Think of all the accidents they might have! So I invented one. I searched the internet for a plan of the 35th floor, and I couldn't find one, so I used my imagination. There must be rooms on that floor that we haven't seen yet! This is just one of them.

Thanks for the kind reviews, as always. I'm so grateful for every single one of them!