Disclaimer: Don't own them. They belong to CBS, Jerry Bruckheimer, Anthony Zuiker etc. Making no money, etc,etc,etc.

Spoliers: None.

Warnings: None

Rating G

Summary : A friendship is put to the test when a team member needs help.

One
Jim Brass frowned as Gil Grissom leaned over his shoulder and scribbled the word in blue ink across the paper whilst simultaneously biting down on an apple.

'Do you mind?' Brass's voice showed a mild irritation.

'No.' The grey haired CSI supervisor crunched his snack, his face a mask of innocence. 'Never figured you for a crossword man Jim.'

'I'm not.'

'So I gather the way you're getting those wrong.' No matter how innocent Grissom said things sometimes, Brass couldn't help but feel inferior,even stupid,though he knew he wasn't. The man just had a knack of making you feel uneducated.

'Actually I was waiting on you.' Brass now lapsed back into his usual impression of boredom. Tossing the puzzle book on the desk,the policeman dug into his inside jacket pocket and extracted a piece of paper. He dropped it on top of the book. Grissom saw the imprint of what looked like a crossword.

'It won't burn you buddy. It arrived in my mail.'

Taking the paper in his hand, Grissom eyed the grid. All the squares were blank. It was drawn in black felt ink, each un-needed square carefully shaded, the cubes waiting to be filled in,left blank and carefully numbered across and down.

'Homemade,' Grissom spoke out loud. 'Where's the clues?'

'Don't know,' Brass shrugged. 'Strange thing to send me.'

'A prank?'

'No idea.'Another shrug.

'Sooooo????' Grissom looked at the detective over the top of his glasses and arched an enquiring brow.

'So it's bothering me because it landed in my personal mail.'

'Home?'

'Yeah. I thought maybe kids. Maybe mine was a random letterbox til I saw my name on it.' Brass gave a sigh and plucked the paper from Grissom's fingers. 'Probably just over-reacting. Just thought it was a strange thing to send me.'

'Post mark?'

'Hand delivered.'

'How was it written? Mr, Captain, Detective, what?'

'Mr.'

'Envelope?'

'Brown, manilla, typed. No note with it.'

'still got it?'

'Of course.'

'Let's print then.'

TBC