I count 3/4(ish) more chapters after this. The chapter will probably be quite long. Again, thanks for all the reviews.
Me psychology? Well…I've only just enrolled in a course for it (3 days ago!). I do enjoy studying the motives behind a persons actions.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Greg scowled at her, when she turned her back. She was really beginning to frustrate him. The same frustration obtained from a child constantly asking 'why.'
She; being the new lab tech. Her name was Libby Andrews. She was blonde; and seemed to act like it. Greg had no-idea why she'd been hired; yes, she knew her way round a microscope, but that was about it. She didn't seem to understand the lab processed crimes. She constantly flirted with Warrick, and the new CSI.
He hated the way that she insisted on carrying out a lot of unnecessary procedures.
He felt trapped. This used to be his own personal space. But she had invaded it. It also annoyed him how she would give out his results freely; even if she had no part in processing them.
Greg was beginning to wonder if she was a relation to Ecklie; just tool to make the night shift suffer.
"Please," She wined from behind him. She pouted. Greg scowled. She knew just enough about science to be dangerous. He secretly hopped that in a couple of weeks, that her spirit would be squashed, or that she'd quit.
Because she was driving him crazy.
"Do you have any idea how long I've worked in this lab," Greg said, asserting his authority. He stood up, and stood inches from her.
"Look, I'm not saying your wrong! Just an extra 10,000g's" she pleaded. She wanted to show him that she wasn't an idiot – that she did understand scientific processors. People seemed to assume that because she was blonde and outgoing – that she was stupid. She knew on occasions that should could be slightly…dense…but wasn't everyone from time-to-time?
She tried to be cheerful; Catherine had mentioned to her that Greg had something wrong with him – but she didn't say what. It scared her – when she was a round him she felt nervous – and to cover it up she acted a bit ditsy deliberately.
She wanted to show she was capable, but not threaten him at the same time. She was guessing she got the mixture wrong…again.
"Why do you want the mitochondrion?" Greg questioned angrily.
"Hunch," she said simply. She shrugged and dropped her smile. He'd been on her case all day.
"We're lab techs, not CSI's, we process what we're told to," he felt like he was lecturing, but he couldn't help it.
She frowned, "Well, you might want be a lab tech all your life, but I'm reaching higher," She said seriously, before turning on her heels and leaving.
'reaching higher…' he knew what that meant. She wanted to be a CSI.
Being a CSI had been one of Greg's ambitions, but over the years, the notion had diminished.
He saw what it was doing to Sara. She was like two different people; the normal happy one, and the obsessive-compulsive person. Both were insomniacs.
No. Greg was happy being a lab tech. He did all the things a CSI did, he solved puzzles, he made hypothesis, he just got to do it in the safety of the lab.
'Safety of the lab…' the words echoed in his mind. Howveer much Greg wanted the lab to return to its former essence, it wouldn't. He would never feel completely safe here.
He guessed he must of gotten to complacent before.
The other bonus of being in the lab was the lack of criminals. In that way, he did admire the CSI's. It must be hard to go into a room with a murderer, rapist or paedophile.
Then the thought occurred to Greg, he probably couldn't become a CSI even if he wanted to…
'….I have no future…'
His thoughts were interrupted by Sara's entrance,
"Got some…"
"…leave it on the pile." He said, cutting of her statement. He really wanted to be alone – something he hardly was these days; Libby was usually towering behind him asking what he was doing, or if he needed help.
"Greg, this is for the turner case," Sara said, trying to hint that it was probably more important than what he was doing. He looked tired. She thought having a new lab tech around would take some of the stress of him, but in reality, he looked more stress than usual.
'Another one of Grissom's brilliant plans,' she thought to herself. 'He's making Greg train a new lab tech – now that's not going to be stressful – why didn't he get one with experience?'
"I said…" Greg began angrily, but when he saw Sara's shocked facial expression, he lowered his voice, "Just, leave it, over there." He said, indicating to a pile of papers.
Sara winced, "You ok Greg?" she said cautiously, not wanting to risk another outburst.
"Sara, a piece of advice for you, never ask a person with Parkinson's if they 'feel' ok." Greg only slightly regretted his words. They were true, and right now he meant them, but he really didn't want to argue with anyone. He didn't have the energy.
"Greg, I just…"
"Forget it Sara! I've had enough ok? I didn't ask to be ill…I don't want to be ill anymore." He admitted, his tone sad.
"Greg…you kinda don't get a choice in this," she said, trying not to sound to serious.
"Maybe I do." He said giving her a cold stare. He sound like he was being deadly serious.
"Greg don't talk like that, don't ever talk like that!" She scalded, her voicing increasing in volume. She didn't like the look on his face. It was too serious.
"Why not! Grissom's already got someone in to replace me; she already has higher job prospects than me…" he yelled, 'and a longer life span.'
"Greg! She doesn't have a patch on you! She's just some immature graduate who…"
"…I don't want to hear it Sara." He rebuked, he didn't feel like being comforted.
"Yeah, but it doesn't matter what you want to hear Greg. I'm telling you what I see." She said sarcastically. She just wanted him to be happy.
"I'm just down today Sara, and I hate to say it, but I really don't like this new lab tech." He said, admitting more things than he wanted to. He just wanted her to know he was just angry, not angry with her.
"Yeah, she's a bit of an air head" she said thoughtfully, but not cruelly, "– everything she does is hit and miss – but she's new! But you know I'd prefer for you to process DNA to you any day Greg," she said, her smile turning into more of a grin.
He sighed, he wanted to smile, but he couldn't.
…and it broke her heart to see him this unhappy.
A silence emanated from both of them. Sara felt sickened by his sadness.
She felt the same helpless way every time she saw his tremors.
She stood there, and she didn't know what to say; and it didn't look like Greg was going to say anything.
And she didn't know what to do.
The silence was broken by the insistent 'beeps' of Sara's pager
"It's Grissom," she said in monotone, he gaze returning to Greg's form.
"Go," he said, making it sound like the obvious thing to do.
"But I'll see you later right?" She said, her voice, and façade both heavily expressing her concern.
"Your case needs you." Greg said, avoiding the question.
"Tell me I'll see you later…" "…I'll see you later Sara." He said, his voice over lapping hers, trying to reassure her, not sure if he meant his words.
She wanted to scream 'don't lie to me!' at him. She was worried; was it justified? Was he for real? He wasn't the one reassuring her earlier that he was fine. He didn't seem fine. His serious words echoed in her mind
Her pager started beeping again, and she looked back to him again, he smiled lightly, and mouthed, "go" to her.
She was torn.
'Damn Grissom' she thought, and reluctantly left Greg.
'He'll be fine' she thought, as she took one last look at him through the glass panel.
'He'll be fine'
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Cliffhanger? Not really. Well maybe. Sorry.
Hmm…the closest I'll get to blond is by bleaching my hair, then buying a dye…
As always, please review.
Me psychology? Well…I've only just enrolled in a course for it (3 days ago!). I do enjoy studying the motives behind a persons actions.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Greg scowled at her, when she turned her back. She was really beginning to frustrate him. The same frustration obtained from a child constantly asking 'why.'
She; being the new lab tech. Her name was Libby Andrews. She was blonde; and seemed to act like it. Greg had no-idea why she'd been hired; yes, she knew her way round a microscope, but that was about it. She didn't seem to understand the lab processed crimes. She constantly flirted with Warrick, and the new CSI.
He hated the way that she insisted on carrying out a lot of unnecessary procedures.
He felt trapped. This used to be his own personal space. But she had invaded it. It also annoyed him how she would give out his results freely; even if she had no part in processing them.
Greg was beginning to wonder if she was a relation to Ecklie; just tool to make the night shift suffer.
"Please," She wined from behind him. She pouted. Greg scowled. She knew just enough about science to be dangerous. He secretly hopped that in a couple of weeks, that her spirit would be squashed, or that she'd quit.
Because she was driving him crazy.
"Do you have any idea how long I've worked in this lab," Greg said, asserting his authority. He stood up, and stood inches from her.
"Look, I'm not saying your wrong! Just an extra 10,000g's" she pleaded. She wanted to show him that she wasn't an idiot – that she did understand scientific processors. People seemed to assume that because she was blonde and outgoing – that she was stupid. She knew on occasions that should could be slightly…dense…but wasn't everyone from time-to-time?
She tried to be cheerful; Catherine had mentioned to her that Greg had something wrong with him – but she didn't say what. It scared her – when she was a round him she felt nervous – and to cover it up she acted a bit ditsy deliberately.
She wanted to show she was capable, but not threaten him at the same time. She was guessing she got the mixture wrong…again.
"Why do you want the mitochondrion?" Greg questioned angrily.
"Hunch," she said simply. She shrugged and dropped her smile. He'd been on her case all day.
"We're lab techs, not CSI's, we process what we're told to," he felt like he was lecturing, but he couldn't help it.
She frowned, "Well, you might want be a lab tech all your life, but I'm reaching higher," She said seriously, before turning on her heels and leaving.
'reaching higher…' he knew what that meant. She wanted to be a CSI.
Being a CSI had been one of Greg's ambitions, but over the years, the notion had diminished.
He saw what it was doing to Sara. She was like two different people; the normal happy one, and the obsessive-compulsive person. Both were insomniacs.
No. Greg was happy being a lab tech. He did all the things a CSI did, he solved puzzles, he made hypothesis, he just got to do it in the safety of the lab.
'Safety of the lab…' the words echoed in his mind. Howveer much Greg wanted the lab to return to its former essence, it wouldn't. He would never feel completely safe here.
He guessed he must of gotten to complacent before.
The other bonus of being in the lab was the lack of criminals. In that way, he did admire the CSI's. It must be hard to go into a room with a murderer, rapist or paedophile.
Then the thought occurred to Greg, he probably couldn't become a CSI even if he wanted to…
'….I have no future…'
His thoughts were interrupted by Sara's entrance,
"Got some…"
"…leave it on the pile." He said, cutting of her statement. He really wanted to be alone – something he hardly was these days; Libby was usually towering behind him asking what he was doing, or if he needed help.
"Greg, this is for the turner case," Sara said, trying to hint that it was probably more important than what he was doing. He looked tired. She thought having a new lab tech around would take some of the stress of him, but in reality, he looked more stress than usual.
'Another one of Grissom's brilliant plans,' she thought to herself. 'He's making Greg train a new lab tech – now that's not going to be stressful – why didn't he get one with experience?'
"I said…" Greg began angrily, but when he saw Sara's shocked facial expression, he lowered his voice, "Just, leave it, over there." He said, indicating to a pile of papers.
Sara winced, "You ok Greg?" she said cautiously, not wanting to risk another outburst.
"Sara, a piece of advice for you, never ask a person with Parkinson's if they 'feel' ok." Greg only slightly regretted his words. They were true, and right now he meant them, but he really didn't want to argue with anyone. He didn't have the energy.
"Greg, I just…"
"Forget it Sara! I've had enough ok? I didn't ask to be ill…I don't want to be ill anymore." He admitted, his tone sad.
"Greg…you kinda don't get a choice in this," she said, trying not to sound to serious.
"Maybe I do." He said giving her a cold stare. He sound like he was being deadly serious.
"Greg don't talk like that, don't ever talk like that!" She scalded, her voicing increasing in volume. She didn't like the look on his face. It was too serious.
"Why not! Grissom's already got someone in to replace me; she already has higher job prospects than me…" he yelled, 'and a longer life span.'
"Greg! She doesn't have a patch on you! She's just some immature graduate who…"
"…I don't want to hear it Sara." He rebuked, he didn't feel like being comforted.
"Yeah, but it doesn't matter what you want to hear Greg. I'm telling you what I see." She said sarcastically. She just wanted him to be happy.
"I'm just down today Sara, and I hate to say it, but I really don't like this new lab tech." He said, admitting more things than he wanted to. He just wanted her to know he was just angry, not angry with her.
"Yeah, she's a bit of an air head" she said thoughtfully, but not cruelly, "– everything she does is hit and miss – but she's new! But you know I'd prefer for you to process DNA to you any day Greg," she said, her smile turning into more of a grin.
He sighed, he wanted to smile, but he couldn't.
…and it broke her heart to see him this unhappy.
A silence emanated from both of them. Sara felt sickened by his sadness.
She felt the same helpless way every time she saw his tremors.
She stood there, and she didn't know what to say; and it didn't look like Greg was going to say anything.
And she didn't know what to do.
The silence was broken by the insistent 'beeps' of Sara's pager
"It's Grissom," she said in monotone, he gaze returning to Greg's form.
"Go," he said, making it sound like the obvious thing to do.
"But I'll see you later right?" She said, her voice, and façade both heavily expressing her concern.
"Your case needs you." Greg said, avoiding the question.
"Tell me I'll see you later…" "…I'll see you later Sara." He said, his voice over lapping hers, trying to reassure her, not sure if he meant his words.
She wanted to scream 'don't lie to me!' at him. She was worried; was it justified? Was he for real? He wasn't the one reassuring her earlier that he was fine. He didn't seem fine. His serious words echoed in her mind
Her pager started beeping again, and she looked back to him again, he smiled lightly, and mouthed, "go" to her.
She was torn.
'Damn Grissom' she thought, and reluctantly left Greg.
'He'll be fine' she thought, as she took one last look at him through the glass panel.
'He'll be fine'
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Cliffhanger? Not really. Well maybe. Sorry.
Hmm…the closest I'll get to blond is by bleaching my hair, then buying a dye…
As always, please review.
