Disclaimer: Not only do I not own anything related to CSI, I also own nothing about Jeopardy!

Chapter 9

He wasn't sure how it happened. He wasn't sure why it happened. But apparently it happened.

In a matter of an hour or two, while Grissom was passed out, helpless, Brass booked Grissom on a national game show, charted flights for two people to Burbank, got people to cover their shifts, packed Grissom's suitcase with four separate outfits for tapings (just in case Grissom won), booked a sitter for Hank and had a rental car waiting to take both men to two already-reserved hotel rooms.

Son of a bitch.

Now Grissom sat in a small waiting room in Burbank, Calif., with about a dozen other people. At this point, friends and family could stay with the contestants until they are put in another waiting room before the taping. Grissom didn't have family or friends with him. He had Brass.

"So, you still pissed at me?" Brass asked with a smile.

"I just want to get this over with," Grissom answered, wringing his hands in his lap.

"Gil, you're going to do great. You know that. Come on," Brass said, beginning to lower his voice, "You could bury these chumps. Earn some extra cash that could be used to take some real time off and spend it with a special somebody, and I'm not talking about me."

"I don't need the extra cash," Grissom said.

Now he was just being stubborn. And nervous, perhaps? Jim's never witnessed that.

"I'm going let you go," Brass said.

Grissom looked up quickly. "Where you going?"

He WAS nervous. All the sudden Brass remembered how Grissom always asked Catherine to do the media duty during high profile cases. It wasn't just Grissom being an asshole. Maybe he was nervous about the cameras.

"Look, Gil, just think of it like a puzzle. A mental exercise. You've been working like a dog lately and, let's face it, you're in bad shape over Sara. You need to unwind. And for reasons I don't understand, focusing your mind on needless information seems to calm you down."

Grissom gave Brass a look. Maybe he was in the room with a friend.

"It's been a little ... difficult lately," Grissom said, putting a hand through his hair. Grissom stood up to follow Brass to the door.

"Hey, this will be done before you know it. Trust me. I know. Plus," Brass reached over to Grissom and unbuttoned the second and third buttons from Grissom's shirt, "it's always good to loosen up."

Grissom knocked Brass' hand from his own chest. "Jesus, Jim, what the hell are you doing?"

"Hey," Jim said with a big laugh, "never hurts to show us what you got."

"Get the hell off me," Grissom said, sternly but with humor behind his words. "Get out of here!"

Jim was laughing. "I'll be out there watching. Good luck, buddy! Make me proud!"

Grissom nodded a goodbye and quickly buttoned the two buttons again.

The choosing of contestants for the taping of five shows would be random. In fact, two of the 12 challengers present today would not get a chance to play. Grissom wasn't sure if he wanted to be in that duo or not. But it didn't matter.

"OK," said one Jeopardy! crew member. "Mr. Halstead, you of course will be playing as our returning champion, and your challengers will be Dolores Hightower and Gil Grissom."

No turning back now.

Each contestant was directed to a personal producer for the show. A familiar face became Grissom's producer.

"Mr. Grissom."

"Mr. Beck. How are you?"

"Good. I should ask you the same question," Beck said with a smile. "I'm glad you agreed to come at short notice. How are you? Nervous at all?"

"Trying not to be."

"Good. Good. That's the key. I don't want you to be nervous or uncomfortable so if there is anything you have a question about or a request let me know and we'll see what we'll do. OK?"

"Sure."

Beck regurgitated the routine one more time. Then he asked for some "interesting stories" for the "get-to-know you segment." "Any questions?" Beck asked.

"No."

"Good, then all you have to worry about now is remembering how to spell 'Gil' correctly on your computer screen."

Grissom hadn't thought about that, but somehow a giant "G-I-L" made him feel very uncomfortable. Then there is the idea of a stranger calling him "Gil."

"Mr. Beck, I would prefer to write 'Grissom' rather than 'Gil.' Would that be possible?"

"You want to be addressed as 'Grissom'?"

"That's correct."

"Any reason?"

"Habit, I suppose."

Beck thought it over. Certain people would not like it. But who cares? With this guy, it made sense. Adds to his charm, Beck thought.

"Consider it done."

Alex Trebek did not speak much to contestants, almost none at all. In fact, he stood several yards from the contestants for most of the show. But he still needed to know something about them before the show started, which is why there are producers. As he looked through the three sets of notes provided by the producers, he stopped. "Mr. Beck, question please."

"Yes sir."

"This Gil Grissom. He wants to be called Grissom?"

"Yes sir."

"Why?"

"Habit, I suppose."

"A bit unorthodox, don't you think? You should convince him to reconsider."

"Sir, I think it would be better to grant his request. Apparently, everyone addresses him like that. Almost like it's his first name. I wouldn't worry about orthodoxy."

"Who does he think he is, an astronaut?" Trebek said under his breath, but not really. Everyone could hear the comment. Then he continued reading, "Beck, what does this say here about a crock pot?"

"Um, nothing sir," Beck said. "We can talk about that later."

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TBC

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A/N: I tried to be as true as possible to how it would be for a Jeopardy! contestant, using research from the Internet and news articles.