Note: This updated version of Chapter 2 *should* display lines of speech properly, sorry
About the confusion of last time!
"I'm telling you, Gris, it was just a very unfortunate chain of events," Greg sat facing his
supervisor, who was regarding him with a critical air, "Anyway, Catherine shouldn't have
pressed that button, just becau-" he was silenced with a glare.
"That's transference of blame, Greg, don't act like a suspect!" Grissom sighed with
exasperation and stated calmly that Catherine had done nothing wrong in summoning help,
considering the circumstances.
Greg stuttered, "Oh, I can explain them, the uh, circumstances, I was just having some..."
"Fun?"
A man in a hard hat intruded, looking puzzled, he held a hammer in one hand.
Grissom politely offered, "The broken *window* is at the end of the hall; the broken *doors*
are located at the front of the building and the entrance to one of the main labs; the
*broken*..."
The man wandered out again, looking even more confused.
"...and don't forget to close the door."
Like lightning, Greg shot out of his seat and slammed shut the offending element. He flashed
a *please forgive me* smile at Grissom. The interrogator bounced it back with a disturbing
grin.
"Come on, Gris, cut me some slack! I didn't *mean* to do anything wrong, I was just goofing."
Running a hand through his peppery-grey hair, the head CSI began to drum his fingers on the
desk. It was very disconcerting.
"Firstly, Greg, since when have you been a non-consequentiality?" He ignored the lost look
that this comment received," And secondly, we do not GOOF in labs. Sure, science can be
fun, but try to curb your enthusiasm in the future."
"Of course, sure, I will bye..." Greg made to leave.
"Down."
Grissom lifted an innocent looking pile of papers from his desk and began to lecture Greg.
"... I'd like to think that maybe this is your reaction to being cooped up..."
*Suddenly the preserved mushrooms on a nearby shelf started to look quite entertaining.*
"...That lack of caution could jeopardise evidence..."
*Could I name all of these in my head? They are rare-looking...*
"...replacement, but I would like to keep you on..."
*Now that was a strange one, blue with black specks, what was it?*
"...up to you Greg, so what do you want to do?"
*It wasn't a coprinus because of the broken stalk.*
"GREG!?!"
"Aaaah! Russula Virescens, sir."
"Greg, were you listening to me? You better have been."
"Oh no," Greg thought, "He's got so mad with me that his voice has looped back from livid to
calm. He shook his head.
"Get out."
"But -"
"Out."
"But-"
"I'll get Catherine to speak to you."
"But-"
And then there was silence, as Grissom turned round and began to attend to his spiders.
Greg managed to walk all the way to the drinks machine before he cracked.
"Uh, can I get past? Once you've finished thumping your head, of course." It was Catherine,
armed with a quarter and a slightly wary look.
"No, I mean, yes, wait…"
"If this is about the alarm, Greg, then I'm not going to step down. I had every right to press it."
"Yes, and Gris agrees. But I need to ask you about a question."
"Oh." Catherine swiftly deposited her money and punched a button. The noise of the can
thumping off of the bottom of the machine hung in the air like the precursor to an avalanche.
"I didn't listen when Grissom told be about something, some question, do you have any idea
what it could possibly be?"
"If you were my son…" various muscles twitched about Catherine's person, the can of Diet
Coke in her hand was looking like it needed an excuse to run away and Greg walked a couple
of steps backwards.
"I'll go ask someone else, Cath, if you're busy."
Catherine sighed and suddenly looked sympathetic, "Greg, you have three options."
"Regarding what?" Greg raised his hands in desperation, "What?"
"If you'll let me finish. You can either transfer, agree to work with a… lab supervisor, or,
leave."
The disheartened lab-tech tried to read from Catherine's expression, but he gleaned nothing,
"Who decided to do this to me?" Greg slid down the wall like he'd been flung at it, his head in
his hands.
"Mainly the SWAT Team leader."
Note from author:
Heya, I'm not really sure where to go from here. Any suggestions?
About the confusion of last time!
"I'm telling you, Gris, it was just a very unfortunate chain of events," Greg sat facing his
supervisor, who was regarding him with a critical air, "Anyway, Catherine shouldn't have
pressed that button, just becau-" he was silenced with a glare.
"That's transference of blame, Greg, don't act like a suspect!" Grissom sighed with
exasperation and stated calmly that Catherine had done nothing wrong in summoning help,
considering the circumstances.
Greg stuttered, "Oh, I can explain them, the uh, circumstances, I was just having some..."
"Fun?"
A man in a hard hat intruded, looking puzzled, he held a hammer in one hand.
Grissom politely offered, "The broken *window* is at the end of the hall; the broken *doors*
are located at the front of the building and the entrance to one of the main labs; the
*broken*..."
The man wandered out again, looking even more confused.
"...and don't forget to close the door."
Like lightning, Greg shot out of his seat and slammed shut the offending element. He flashed
a *please forgive me* smile at Grissom. The interrogator bounced it back with a disturbing
grin.
"Come on, Gris, cut me some slack! I didn't *mean* to do anything wrong, I was just goofing."
Running a hand through his peppery-grey hair, the head CSI began to drum his fingers on the
desk. It was very disconcerting.
"Firstly, Greg, since when have you been a non-consequentiality?" He ignored the lost look
that this comment received," And secondly, we do not GOOF in labs. Sure, science can be
fun, but try to curb your enthusiasm in the future."
"Of course, sure, I will bye..." Greg made to leave.
"Down."
Grissom lifted an innocent looking pile of papers from his desk and began to lecture Greg.
"... I'd like to think that maybe this is your reaction to being cooped up..."
*Suddenly the preserved mushrooms on a nearby shelf started to look quite entertaining.*
"...That lack of caution could jeopardise evidence..."
*Could I name all of these in my head? They are rare-looking...*
"...replacement, but I would like to keep you on..."
*Now that was a strange one, blue with black specks, what was it?*
"...up to you Greg, so what do you want to do?"
*It wasn't a coprinus because of the broken stalk.*
"GREG!?!"
"Aaaah! Russula Virescens, sir."
"Greg, were you listening to me? You better have been."
"Oh no," Greg thought, "He's got so mad with me that his voice has looped back from livid to
calm. He shook his head.
"Get out."
"But -"
"Out."
"But-"
"I'll get Catherine to speak to you."
"But-"
And then there was silence, as Grissom turned round and began to attend to his spiders.
Greg managed to walk all the way to the drinks machine before he cracked.
"Uh, can I get past? Once you've finished thumping your head, of course." It was Catherine,
armed with a quarter and a slightly wary look.
"No, I mean, yes, wait…"
"If this is about the alarm, Greg, then I'm not going to step down. I had every right to press it."
"Yes, and Gris agrees. But I need to ask you about a question."
"Oh." Catherine swiftly deposited her money and punched a button. The noise of the can
thumping off of the bottom of the machine hung in the air like the precursor to an avalanche.
"I didn't listen when Grissom told be about something, some question, do you have any idea
what it could possibly be?"
"If you were my son…" various muscles twitched about Catherine's person, the can of Diet
Coke in her hand was looking like it needed an excuse to run away and Greg walked a couple
of steps backwards.
"I'll go ask someone else, Cath, if you're busy."
Catherine sighed and suddenly looked sympathetic, "Greg, you have three options."
"Regarding what?" Greg raised his hands in desperation, "What?"
"If you'll let me finish. You can either transfer, agree to work with a… lab supervisor, or,
leave."
The disheartened lab-tech tried to read from Catherine's expression, but he gleaned nothing,
"Who decided to do this to me?" Greg slid down the wall like he'd been flung at it, his head in
his hands.
"Mainly the SWAT Team leader."
Note from author:
Heya, I'm not really sure where to go from here. Any suggestions?