(I rewrote this because I just realized that it's supposed to be 8 o'clock or something like that in the morning and there's a scene where a girl comes back from school and the mother is making dinner... Stupid, stupid, stupid... *bangs her head against the wall* Blame it on the exam season.)
A/N: Exam season is over once again and I'm back to normal sleeping hours. Which means that I can actually do some writing! Yay! Here's some answers to the lovely reviews that I got (thank you all, they made me very happy *g*), just because I'm too lazy to send e-mail:
Jen (and also an answer to nr and all the others who would like to know): I don't like that stalker guy either. He's nasty. And that's why I love writing him. =) You're not completely off the base. Now, I haven't planned everything *that* specific yet, but I have some major N/S subtext in mind, and if I get really excited it might not end up that subtle at all. But, that's what I have in mind. So, yes, in some point there is going to be something. Hopefully... Understand? *lol* Yeah, me neither...
Barbara: You'll get your Grissom, don't worry. At least if I don't change my mind too much. See, I have the ending in sight, not entirely but some of it, and it includes some killer/Grissom interaction (my mind got running the other night and I wrote seven pages of their dialogue, though most likely only a quarter of it will actually end up in the story). But I don't know... I'm still keeping everything open. Everything can still change in this point.
Let's see what else... Oh!
Franny: He's a bad, bad boy...
Peggie: =) I'm glad you stuck around, too.
Who is it? Who's the next victim? I'll say as I've sa
id before: Wait and see.... *smiles deviously*
Okay, I'm done for now. Enjoy, and review. Thank you. I'm off. *goes to get some oh so lovely coffee*
An Old Friend
- Chapter Five -
The sound of the bass tore up the quiet corridor in steady thumbs. The walls muffled the sound until there was nothing else left than the mind-numbing, hypnotizing vibration that only barely could be recognized as music.
Grissom shook his head with irritation as he approached the source of the noise: the DNA lab. As he got closer, the music got clearer and he could now recognize it as Black Flag, the one that Greg usually played. He could see him through the glass doors, bolting around the room, off the chair and back again, from one machine to another, mouthing the words of the song as he did so - some could've said that he was being hasty and sloppy, Grissom had his doubts sometimes too, but they hadn't seen his results.
Still, he couldn't let him get too out of hands.
"Greg!" Grissom yelped from the doorway, trying to make his voice carry over the music. His own name made the young man whirl his chair around, jerking his head at the direction of the interruption. He gave one look at Grissom's folded arms and a arched eyebrow and reached to flip the music off.
"Hi ya. What can I do for you?" he then greeted with a slight grin that made his eyes sparkle with humor. Today his hair seemed, if possible, wilder than usually and a slight pink glow colored his cheeks due to the bouncing around. Grissom gave a little inner sigh. He corrected his previous thoughts; sometimes he had many doubts about his work effort in this place.
"How 'bout some results on the skin and the hair?" he suggested.
Greg's expression changed back to some what professional as he glanced at the computer that worked its best on the table. "Get back to me in about twenty minutes or so," he reported. Then another smile. "You gotta be patient if you want anything done."
"Well, we can't afford to be patient in this one."
Greg threw his hands up in the air as a mark of surrender. "Okay, keep your pants on! It takes as long as it takes."
"Well, you'd better get back to work then." He started to turn to leave but then gave one last comment over his shoulder. "And Greg... Without the music."
He could hear a small grunt behind him as he left the room.
***
Lily Murdock glanced up from the stove as the kitchen door flew open. A small girl, about nine years old, waltzed in with her ponytail jerking in the air and slumped into the nearest chair. Her lower lip went into a little pout.
"Hi, honey. How would you like your eggs done?" Lily asked her daughter pretending not to notice her mood.
Her little feet started swinging under the chair as she crossed her arms on her chest and grunted: "I'm not going to school today. I hate Ms. Cormick!"
Lindsey rolled her eyes at the wall with a small smile and sighed. "No, you don't, Shelly."
"But mom, I do! She made me sit with Jeff Rafer! He's not nice. He always puts gum into my hair and makes faces and he's totally gross. Ms. Cormick is just being mean. I don't like her."
"... district of California. --" The newsreader in the radio managed to get in as Shelly started pouting again. Lily just shook her head and got back to making the breakfast. Shelly was always so stubborn. She'll get over it, though, after awhile of moping. "The bodies of Laura and Paul Kinley were found dead from their home here in Las Vegas early this morning." That news got Lily's mood down. Poor people. They'd been so young. And she couldn't believe that something like this had happened to someone who lived right next door. She shook her head sadly as the lady went on. "The police isn't giving any information out at this moment, but requests anyone who saw anything out of ordinary nearby Kinsleys' house at 27 Kingston Drive last night between midnight and three a.m. to contact the nearest police station. -- Then to weather..."
Shelly little voice broke through Lily's thoughts. "Mom? Was that about the nice lady and mister next door?"
Lindsey turned to look at her daughter's widened eyes. She looked so sad right then. She hadn't even realized that Shelly knew what was going on around the neighborhood today. "Oh, honey..." she sighed and walked to her side. She knelt down by the chair. "I'm afraid it was," she said with a sad smile and Shelly's eyes turned to stair at the floor. "I'm afraid so."
Shelly didn't look at her, just swayed her feet under the chair quietly. "Does that make you feel bad, mom?"
Lily's hand wandered to stroke the girl's hair gently as she spoke. "Yes, honey, it does."
"Mom?" She still kept staring at the floor and her voice was quiet.
"Yes?"
Cautiously, as if ashamed Shelly whispered: "I think I saw something."
Her hand stopped stroking and she stared at the girl with her eyes wide. Shelly looked guilty. "W-what?" When she didn't answer, Lily grabbed her chin gently with her fingers and turned the girl to look at her. "What did you see?"
Shelly blinked a couple of times before she finally opened her mouth. "A man came out of their basement."
***
Greg strode along the corridor with a happy grin on his face. He'd finally done it. It took two hours of overtime but the tests were done now and he was holding the results in his hand. He would just find Grissom and tell him the news and then he'd be off. Free to do what ever he wanted. And, frankly, all he wanted to do was get something to eat and then crash into his bed, bury his head into the pillow and sleep until the night walkers were to crawl out of their hiding places once again.
The fatigue tried to pull his shoulders down, tried to slower his pace, but he refused to give in. Not before the covers were on. So he smiled to himself and held his head up as he rushed through the corridor with the hems of his lab coat flapping against his tights. Finally, from the break room, he found what he was looking for.
Grissom stood there in the middle of the room talking to Sara as Greg pushed the door open and walked in. Both of them turned to look at them, pausing their conversation.
With a proud, satisfied grin on his face, he spread his arms wide in the air as if ready for a big bear hug. "Congratulations! It's a boy!" he blazed.
Apparently, Grissom didn't think it was that funny. "That's it?" he simply asked, and Greg dropped his hands back to his sides.
"Well, he smokes and doesn't use conditioning," Greg continued, still smiling slightly. The smile decreased as Grissom continued looking at him as if he was something weird that had just popped out from a crack in the wall. Greg cleared his throat and continued more seriously, "They match each other but there's nothing else unless you give me something to compare them to."
Grissom gave a small nod. "Fine." His eyes turned back to Sara, wordlessly unpausing the conversation that had been interrupted. "Brass sent officers to circle around the motels and inns, but..."
"...It's a shot in the dark," Sara concluded.
"Exactly. He could be anywhere, sleeping on the streets or in his car." His hand rose to pinch the bridge of his nose. Greg could see that this case was rubbing on Grissom's nerves. These kinds of cases always did. Greg knew that he hated the idea of another victim because he was moving too slow.
The sound of the beeper going off startled Greg out of his thoughts. It was Grissom's. He grabbed in and read the message. "Brass," he grunted. He tucked the beeper back into his pocket and nodded towards the door. "Let's go." They both pushed by Greg who was still standing at the doorway. After a couple of steps Grissom turned around. "Oh, Greg..." he said as if he'd just remembered. "Gareth is sick. The replacement can't get here before noon and I need you to cover until that."
What? Greg blinked.
"You'll do that?" One quick arched eyebrow at Greg's direction and, before he could even realize, his silence was interpreted as a 'yes'. "Great. Thanks." The next thing Greg's brains registered was Sara's and Grissom's backs disappearing behind the corner.
As the others were gone and the hallway fell silent again, Greg let his shoulders slump. Damn it.
TBC...
Ps. Okay, that was a pretty lame chapter. I just wanted to get something in from all the point of views and noticed that I hadn't done Greg yet. Well, some more action and crime solving in the next piece. See ya in a while!
A/N: Exam season is over once again and I'm back to normal sleeping hours. Which means that I can actually do some writing! Yay! Here's some answers to the lovely reviews that I got (thank you all, they made me very happy *g*), just because I'm too lazy to send e-mail:
Jen (and also an answer to nr and all the others who would like to know): I don't like that stalker guy either. He's nasty. And that's why I love writing him. =) You're not completely off the base. Now, I haven't planned everything *that* specific yet, but I have some major N/S subtext in mind, and if I get really excited it might not end up that subtle at all. But, that's what I have in mind. So, yes, in some point there is going to be something. Hopefully... Understand? *lol* Yeah, me neither...
Barbara: You'll get your Grissom, don't worry. At least if I don't change my mind too much. See, I have the ending in sight, not entirely but some of it, and it includes some killer/Grissom interaction (my mind got running the other night and I wrote seven pages of their dialogue, though most likely only a quarter of it will actually end up in the story). But I don't know... I'm still keeping everything open. Everything can still change in this point.
Let's see what else... Oh!
Franny: He's a bad, bad boy...
Peggie: =) I'm glad you stuck around, too.
Who is it? Who's the next victim? I'll say as I've sa
id before: Wait and see.... *smiles deviously*
Okay, I'm done for now. Enjoy, and review. Thank you. I'm off. *goes to get some oh so lovely coffee*
- Chapter Five -
The sound of the bass tore up the quiet corridor in steady thumbs. The walls muffled the sound until there was nothing else left than the mind-numbing, hypnotizing vibration that only barely could be recognized as music.
Grissom shook his head with irritation as he approached the source of the noise: the DNA lab. As he got closer, the music got clearer and he could now recognize it as Black Flag, the one that Greg usually played. He could see him through the glass doors, bolting around the room, off the chair and back again, from one machine to another, mouthing the words of the song as he did so - some could've said that he was being hasty and sloppy, Grissom had his doubts sometimes too, but they hadn't seen his results.
Still, he couldn't let him get too out of hands.
"Greg!" Grissom yelped from the doorway, trying to make his voice carry over the music. His own name made the young man whirl his chair around, jerking his head at the direction of the interruption. He gave one look at Grissom's folded arms and a arched eyebrow and reached to flip the music off.
"Hi ya. What can I do for you?" he then greeted with a slight grin that made his eyes sparkle with humor. Today his hair seemed, if possible, wilder than usually and a slight pink glow colored his cheeks due to the bouncing around. Grissom gave a little inner sigh. He corrected his previous thoughts; sometimes he had many doubts about his work effort in this place.
"How 'bout some results on the skin and the hair?" he suggested.
Greg's expression changed back to some what professional as he glanced at the computer that worked its best on the table. "Get back to me in about twenty minutes or so," he reported. Then another smile. "You gotta be patient if you want anything done."
"Well, we can't afford to be patient in this one."
Greg threw his hands up in the air as a mark of surrender. "Okay, keep your pants on! It takes as long as it takes."
"Well, you'd better get back to work then." He started to turn to leave but then gave one last comment over his shoulder. "And Greg... Without the music."
He could hear a small grunt behind him as he left the room.
***
Lily Murdock glanced up from the stove as the kitchen door flew open. A small girl, about nine years old, waltzed in with her ponytail jerking in the air and slumped into the nearest chair. Her lower lip went into a little pout.
"Hi, honey. How would you like your eggs done?" Lily asked her daughter pretending not to notice her mood.
Her little feet started swinging under the chair as she crossed her arms on her chest and grunted: "I'm not going to school today. I hate Ms. Cormick!"
Lindsey rolled her eyes at the wall with a small smile and sighed. "No, you don't, Shelly."
"But mom, I do! She made me sit with Jeff Rafer! He's not nice. He always puts gum into my hair and makes faces and he's totally gross. Ms. Cormick is just being mean. I don't like her."
"... district of California. --" The newsreader in the radio managed to get in as Shelly started pouting again. Lily just shook her head and got back to making the breakfast. Shelly was always so stubborn. She'll get over it, though, after awhile of moping. "The bodies of Laura and Paul Kinley were found dead from their home here in Las Vegas early this morning." That news got Lily's mood down. Poor people. They'd been so young. And she couldn't believe that something like this had happened to someone who lived right next door. She shook her head sadly as the lady went on. "The police isn't giving any information out at this moment, but requests anyone who saw anything out of ordinary nearby Kinsleys' house at 27 Kingston Drive last night between midnight and three a.m. to contact the nearest police station. -- Then to weather..."
Shelly little voice broke through Lily's thoughts. "Mom? Was that about the nice lady and mister next door?"
Lindsey turned to look at her daughter's widened eyes. She looked so sad right then. She hadn't even realized that Shelly knew what was going on around the neighborhood today. "Oh, honey..." she sighed and walked to her side. She knelt down by the chair. "I'm afraid it was," she said with a sad smile and Shelly's eyes turned to stair at the floor. "I'm afraid so."
Shelly didn't look at her, just swayed her feet under the chair quietly. "Does that make you feel bad, mom?"
Lily's hand wandered to stroke the girl's hair gently as she spoke. "Yes, honey, it does."
"Mom?" She still kept staring at the floor and her voice was quiet.
"Yes?"
Cautiously, as if ashamed Shelly whispered: "I think I saw something."
Her hand stopped stroking and she stared at the girl with her eyes wide. Shelly looked guilty. "W-what?" When she didn't answer, Lily grabbed her chin gently with her fingers and turned the girl to look at her. "What did you see?"
Shelly blinked a couple of times before she finally opened her mouth. "A man came out of their basement."
***
Greg strode along the corridor with a happy grin on his face. He'd finally done it. It took two hours of overtime but the tests were done now and he was holding the results in his hand. He would just find Grissom and tell him the news and then he'd be off. Free to do what ever he wanted. And, frankly, all he wanted to do was get something to eat and then crash into his bed, bury his head into the pillow and sleep until the night walkers were to crawl out of their hiding places once again.
The fatigue tried to pull his shoulders down, tried to slower his pace, but he refused to give in. Not before the covers were on. So he smiled to himself and held his head up as he rushed through the corridor with the hems of his lab coat flapping against his tights. Finally, from the break room, he found what he was looking for.
Grissom stood there in the middle of the room talking to Sara as Greg pushed the door open and walked in. Both of them turned to look at them, pausing their conversation.
With a proud, satisfied grin on his face, he spread his arms wide in the air as if ready for a big bear hug. "Congratulations! It's a boy!" he blazed.
Apparently, Grissom didn't think it was that funny. "That's it?" he simply asked, and Greg dropped his hands back to his sides.
"Well, he smokes and doesn't use conditioning," Greg continued, still smiling slightly. The smile decreased as Grissom continued looking at him as if he was something weird that had just popped out from a crack in the wall. Greg cleared his throat and continued more seriously, "They match each other but there's nothing else unless you give me something to compare them to."
Grissom gave a small nod. "Fine." His eyes turned back to Sara, wordlessly unpausing the conversation that had been interrupted. "Brass sent officers to circle around the motels and inns, but..."
"...It's a shot in the dark," Sara concluded.
"Exactly. He could be anywhere, sleeping on the streets or in his car." His hand rose to pinch the bridge of his nose. Greg could see that this case was rubbing on Grissom's nerves. These kinds of cases always did. Greg knew that he hated the idea of another victim because he was moving too slow.
The sound of the beeper going off startled Greg out of his thoughts. It was Grissom's. He grabbed in and read the message. "Brass," he grunted. He tucked the beeper back into his pocket and nodded towards the door. "Let's go." They both pushed by Greg who was still standing at the doorway. After a couple of steps Grissom turned around. "Oh, Greg..." he said as if he'd just remembered. "Gareth is sick. The replacement can't get here before noon and I need you to cover until that."
What? Greg blinked.
"You'll do that?" One quick arched eyebrow at Greg's direction and, before he could even realize, his silence was interpreted as a 'yes'. "Great. Thanks." The next thing Greg's brains registered was Sara's and Grissom's backs disappearing behind the corner.
As the others were gone and the hallway fell silent again, Greg let his shoulders slump. Damn it.
TBC...
Ps. Okay, that was a pretty lame chapter. I just wanted to get something in from all the point of views and noticed that I hadn't done Greg yet. Well, some more action and crime solving in the next piece. See ya in a while!