I stumbled into work at a few minutes after ten. I would have just enough time to grab a Pepsi and Reece's Fast Break before nightly assignments were handed out. Having only eighty-five cents in my pocket forced me to exchange a Pepsi and Reece's Fast Break for a root beer and a bag of Cheetos. I wandered off to the break room, munching on my snack as I went. I said "Hi" to a few of the people I knew from the day shift that passed me; most of them, however, knew me as one of the evil members of the night shift and ignored me without comment.
"Greggy!" An excited voice greeted me as I stepped into the break room, barely having enough time to register the voice before nine-year-old Lindsey Willows threw herself at me. I caught her in the crook of my arm in a makeshift hug, "Hey Linds," I replied, smiling down at her. "Oh, Lindsey," Catherine sighed from her spot at the table, "Goodness, can't you wait until Greg is in the room?"
That's when I noticed Lindsey seemed to be on some sort of speed drug, or maybe it was a caffeine overload. Whatever it was, her bouncing had caused Nick and Warrick to chuckle and smile fondly at the little girl. I set my Cheetos on the table; pulling Sara's hair when she snitched one, "Get your own!" I scolded playfully before returning my attention to Lindsey, "What's up, kiddo?"
Catherine was rolling her eyes and smiling, the smile touched her eyes and lit them with the glow that only parents' possess. Nick, who had been sitting on the table, reading the sports page of the Las Vegas Sun, prodded, "Tell him, Linds." I raised my eyebrows, waiting for the bouncing ball of blonde to settle down enough to tell me her big surprise.
"MOMMY BOUGHT ME A PUPPY!" She squealed excitedly as she threw her arms around my legs in a hug, "Just like yours, Greg! Only my puppy's a boy and he's really small, but maybe your puppy could come over and teach my puppy how to be a big dog! You know, like Mommy taught you how to be a CSI?" This roused a laugh from everyone in the room, including Grissom, who had been standing in the doorway, listening to the whole exchange.
I laughed, "Well, my puppy's not so little anymore." Lindsey pouted, "Oh. Well, can she still come over? Maybe we could have a puppy party!" Again, everyone in the room laughed at the little girl's excited babble. A puppy party? I prayed to God for my parent's sake that I had never said anything so silly as a child. I smiled and mussed her hair fondly, "I don't know, Lindsey, we'll have to see what your Mom says."
Lindsey turned her big, blue eyes toward her mother, "Plllleeeeasssseee, Mommy?" Catherine smiled, "I don't know, honey, we'll see."—She looked at the delicate watch resting on her skinny wrist—"But right now, I think it's past your bedtime…" Lindsey groaned. All of my team members gave a small smirk, remembering our own childhoods and how much we hated that phrase. "C'mon, Linds," Nick said, sliding down from the table and prying her vice-like grip off my legs, "I brought my Playstation with Bandicoot, maybe your Mom would let you play a round with me before bed?" He looked up at Catherine, who nodded. Nick led her off, Lindsey's voice echoing off the halls, she was trying to think up names for her new puppy.
"A puppy, Catherine?" Sara asked with a smile as she attempted to steal another Cheeto from me. She yelped when I slapped her hand and retaliated in the form of a sucker punch. "OW!" I cried, rubbing my arm. "Children," Grissom warned, not bothering to pull his eyes from the report he was reading. "She sucker punched me, man!" I whined; sneering at Sara. Warrick laughed, "Are you gonna let her push you around like that, Greg?"
"Nope," I replied, "She'll get hers
later." I grinned suggestively at her, causing her big, brown eyes to roll up
in the back of her head. Catherine
answered Sara's question as if the whole exchange had not taken place, "Yeah, a
puppy. I took Lindsey to the mall for
new clothes, we walked past the pet shop and he was in the window…" She smiled
wistfully, "He was a heartbreaker, I'll tell you. Besides, I figured it would take her mind off-…" Catherine stopped,
her soft eyes sad, her voice betraying everything. Everyone in the room sobered, she didn't have to finish the
sentence, we knew what she was going to say.
I figured it would take her mind
off Eddie. Grissom looked up and
smiled at her, "Well, I guess, we'll just wait for Nick before I hand out
assignments."
"No need," Nick flashed everyone
in the room a charming Texas smile; "I'm back, she fell asleep half-way through
the level." I sat down at the table,
away from Sara; Catherine took a seat next to me as Grissom pulled out the
assignment sheet. "Ookkkaaayy," he drew
out the two syllable word as he collected his thoughts, "Well, um, let's see…
Catherine, you're with Sara, robbery in Henderson. Warrick, you're with me, we've got a murder-suicide in East Las
Vegas."
This surprised me; I usually went with Catherine on cases… did this mean I had a new case? All right! I was movin' up the ladder. "Greg," I looked up at Grissom, "You're with Nick, murder at Club 11 on the Strip." My eyes lit up, "Wow, my first murder, thanks, Griss." I beamed at Sara, "Have fun at your robbery, sucker!" She stuck her tongue out at me, "Bite me, Sanders," she replied. "Sanders," Grissom scolded, "Sidle. Chill." I rolled my eyes, but complied. Warrick, Nick and Catherine all had the grace to hide their smiles behind their hands.
Grissom looked up at everyone, "Well? What are we waiting for, let's go!" That was Grissom's polite form of, 'I just gave you a job, GO DO IT!!!' I stood up, and started for the locker room to get my jacket and ID. "Catch you in the parking lot, Nick," I said, clapping him on the back as I left the room. Nick nodded and followed me out the door. When I reached the locker room, I realized I left my unfinished snack on the table in the break room. I'd grab it before I headed out to the parking lot.
I reached in my locker and pulled out my leather jacket with my lamanated I.D. badge clipped to the breast pocket. I smiled and ran my thumb over the text printed next to my picture. 'Gregory Aaron Sanders: CSI1' I almost giggled with glee. I shrugged the jacket on and hurried back toward the break room. When I reached it, I crossed over to the table, where did my snack go? I noticed there was a note on the table where the can of soda had been sitting, it read, 'Have fun at your murder, sucker! S.S.' My eyes narrowed, I only knew of one woman with the initals of "S.S."
I shook my head and started toward the parking lot, where Nick was already waiting. "What took you so long?" He asked with a smile as I put on my seat belt, "I went looking for my snack, Sara stole it, she owes me eighty-five cents." Nick laughed out loud and put the Tahoe in gear. As he pulled the Tahoe out of the parking lot I realized something, "Hey! How come I never get to drive?" I demanded as Stokes reached over to turn the radio on. I smacked his hand away and said, "Uh-uh, no way, if you get to drive I get to choose the tunes."
"Awfully demanding, aren't you?" Nick mumbled as he put his hand back on the steering wheel. "Yes," I replied, "When I was on cases with Catherine that was our deal, if she drove I got to pick the tunes, if I drove I was forced to listen to elevator music."
"Elevator music!" Nick snorted as we made a left hand turn; "I never pictured Cath as the type to jam to Celine Dion, are you serious?" I grinned and sat back in the seat, not bothering to turn the radio on, "Oh yeah, and she sings along, too, she doesn't care who's listening, either!" Nick smiled, "I couldn't imagine, what do you think Sara listens to?" I arched an eyebrow, why would Nicky be interested in what Sara listens to? Hmm… "Oh, I don't know," I said casually, looking out the window as we passed the Golden Nugget, "She always struck me as the country type. Garth Brooks and all that." I shuddered at the thought. Nick, I noticed, had pasted a small smirk on his face. I grinned, "Ah, you can take the boy out of Texas, but you can't take the Texas out of the boy."
"So true, brother, so true."