Mating Rituals

By Jane Doe

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI and all research done for this is accessible by the Encyclopedia Smithsonian. Everything else is my imagination.

Notes: O-kay, long time since I'd cruised the fics or written one, but I hope nothing's changed...GSR makes a pretty blue! Well, there are four separate parts in total with this fic. Each part acts independent in content but in theme they all are linked together. This first part is slower than the others, but was needed as a jumping point. Reviews are appreciated. }:^D Thank you!

Part I: Locating and Recognizing Mates

Often in populations of insects, males of the species emerge first as adults, and thus are available for mating when the females emerge. However in some species, this does not apply.

Grissom leaned back into the sturdy comfort of his leather chair removing his glasses with a slow methodical tug. The soft glow of his lamp lit the mound of papers that always seemed to get pushed aside. Their case was granting ample time to finish the menial chores of a supervisor, but the supervisor had no ambition to tackle the burden. It wasn't that long ago that he became supervisor, overseeing many cases at once and directing a team of skilled scientists to solve puzzles. He had reservations about taking this position but they quickly disappeared, unlike memories sharp as ever and the paperwork currently winning the staring contest.

It was awkward and stuffy, a combination he loathed even in a memory. It was only ten minutes into the mandatory seminar and he was on the brink of boring about sixty Harvard undergraduates and more importantly himself. Corpses had more life than the scattered beings around the auditorium. Perhaps if the small crowd was actually interested in what he had to say, he may not be so miserable. Regardless, he delivered line after line with a professional conviction he took pride in, but that's not to say he wasn't watching the clock for release. Then a raised hand from the middle seat on the eleventh row behind a young man sleeping urged for acknowledgment. At first he dreaded anything the brunette had to say, but the words flowing from her lips would change everything for years to come.

He finally found an eager mind capable of grasping what he was trying to communicate. He relished in that simple fact without holding back and it alone was enough to start a future. He heard the intelligence in her words as they were carefully placed to extract information or make a point throughout the rest of the seminar. Her quick deductive thought process, a quality that resided in himself, drew him to her. He also discovered that she lacked the normal pleasantries of a young naive scholar. Soon all he could think about was taking her away from the others and discussing what he loved: forensics, evidence, and science. There was an instant spark neither one could deny.

The spark was there when she formally introduced herself after the room was emptied. It was there when she rattled off past experiments in the field of forensics as if she had been a CSI for years. Tension lacked in their conversation. He did not trip endlessly over words; instead they flew at great speed only to be lobbed back with a curious undertone. What she had to offer was like an enigmatic spell that he could not escape. Of course the sexual attraction was there but solely because introduction of thought was first. When she asked him to join her for coffee at the campus cafe to continue their conversation however, he began to feel overwhelmed by the young woman. He hesitantly declined the offer in a professional manner, but as he would later learn her persuasiveness, obstinacy, and beauty was a force to reckon with.

They talked for hours upon no end about him mostly. They tried to exchange stories but his knowledge of college life was somewhat as aged as the man. She didn't seem to mind her own lack of input though. Instead she hung on every word with fascination that drew her only deeper into his being, lodging her soul inside a barrier she didn't even know existed. He would have resisted if he had known, but even resistance was a feeble attempt against the magnetism of two lives.

"Hey Gris?" Sara stood in his office doorway waiting for a reply.

He pulled his glasses back onto his face blinking away the fuzziness of the floating memory. "Did you get the lab results yet?"

She allowed a smile to linger. "Yes, Greg found a match in the system. You will never guess the name it kicked out." She moved across the office to lay a piece of paper in his awaiting hands.

"Have you called Brass?" He asked viewing the printout.

"I thought you would like to join me."

A broad grin accompanied the blue shine in his eyes as he rose to his feet. "By all means after you."

Appearing at the same place of interest is another factor when finding mates. Many kinds of insects, including flies, beetles, wasps, bees, and butterflies are known to congregate at locations termed leks. These leks are simply a place to locate mates.

The Las Vegas Crime Building had become her refuge of sorts. She used to believe San Francisco housed her true self. She lived there her whole life until college. Then she got away to one of the most upscale schools in the country. College was somewhere she could be with those like herself; those with dreams and high expectations of others. She ran to Harvard to belong but she loved San Francisco, which is why she returned. She loved the city, the harbor, the people, the coast, the sunrises, and even the rain and fog. That city was her home. That was until she came to Vegas. Soon the bright lights leaping forth from the desert became home with a sweet melody of winners in every casino on The Strip.

It was his voice on the other end of the phone, not someone that she promised she would keep in touch with on the holidays. He called and she came. He asked and she stayed. Before long, she became a real member of the team. However, it was more than the work that made it effortless to settle in with her co-workers. She believed it was him.

He was the man that worked with her everyday in the building she currently wandered. This was more than just a place to work. It was a place that always had his presence to titillate her synapses and physical senses in every sensual way. She came in on her days off in hope of finding him bent over the same piece of evidence that wouldn't allow him to sleep either. She would seek out his guidance, but most times she would meander into his office in need of a familiar connection. She was never lonely at work, because his door was always open even when the man was closed for the day.

She had to admit that their relationship was not the same once she officially joined the team as his subordinate but she valued it nonetheless for a different quality with the same intentions. She loved her work and she owed it to him on that fateful day when two similar lives crossed and entangled over something of equal interest. He reinforced a passion in her by giving closure to the victim through the voice of the evidence. She was introduced to his true love and fell into it, and later into him. She had no idea he would spawn years of attraction that extended beyond intellect and science.

"I was looking for you." His voice cut through her reverie quickly causing her to backtrack to the layout room.

"Did you find what you wanted?" She asked sweetly before bowing her head as if examining her attire.

"In fact I found much more."

Finding and recognizing mates is usually achieved by chemical attractants in the air called pheromones. Sex-attractant pheromones are specific to the species and quite distinct. An example of this is the male silk moth. By current estimates, it can detect a few hundred pheromone molecules among 25 quintillion molecules, which is an incredible accomplishment.

"Grissom this isn't right!" She shouted in anger and frustration.

He lightly took her by her elbow to lead her away. Where, he did not know but it had to be away from the case. As he led the woman out the door towards the parking lot, he stole small glances at her lithe figure. Her breathing was coming in rasps of emotional rage and her cheeks tinged with a faint pink. But what he noticed the most was her scent when he leaned into her to avoid a collision with a young officer.

She smelled like...Sara. It was a fragrance unique to her in particular. She always had a fresh aroma of lavender shampoo or body wash among the natural components of her body. He didn't know if it was the shampoo or the soap, because the entire smell radiated from her. Her clothing detergent had a tiny distinct contribution to the whole of Sara Sidle. He did not doubt that there were thousands of women with the exact same combination of detergent and lavender, but there was something else adding to the mix that didn't make her apart of the thousands.

He never vocalized his thoughts with a compliment afraid he might draw attention to himself. People might consider him to be insane. Who in there right mind would notice such exclusive undertones? Who in their right mind would find a natural odor to be tantalizing? Or perhaps what he found worse was the fact that he would be vulnerable by such an admission. Finally, they broke away when the cool night air hit their faces.

"I don't want to hear it." She said as she began to pace.

"You can't keep doing this, Sara."

She stopped and turned to him. "You cannot possibly agree with what just happened. He killed her!"

"You have to give the evidence time. It never failed us before." He said softly.

"But it is failing the victim!" She shouted. Her eyes were trained on him expecting, no wanting him to admit that the great legal system was once again failing the victim it was supposed to save. It never came.

"Sara!" He called to her darkened retreating figure. She indulged him with a pause and slight turn. "Give it time."

She nodded to keep the tears at bay and left him standing there. Alone.

Sometimes mates are located by sound. An example of this is the male mosquito that locates females for mating by the humming sound made by the female's vibrating wings.

His shoulder was uncomfortably wedged between the doorway and the open door marked 'Evidence Room 2'. She stood over the victim's clothing dimly lit by the nearest desk lamp. The case file in her hand held her hope as her eyes searched for the one thing they might have missed. She glanced expectantly from the report to the clothing before savagely ransacking another evidence bag.

Once again his quiet presence was rewarded as a soft song floated to his ears. It was the same song that caused him to search the early empty corridors in the first place. Not to his surprise, she was the source of his curiosity once again. He did not recognize the song, but listened to the weighted lyrics; that became enough.

So when the hurting starts
And when the nightmares begin
Remember you can fill up the sky
You don't have to give in
You don't have to give in

He cleared his throat and moved into the small room. "I thought you went home for the day. What are you doing here?"

She threw a gloved hand towards the table. "I thought maybe we missed something."

"You should go home." He said.

She nodded but made no gesture to comply.

"We will get the one responsible, Sara."

"He is responsible."

"No, he is responsible for something entirely different."

"Is it really that different?" She let emotion punctuate her words but remained in control. "He may not have pulled the trigger but he killed her inside."

"Unfortunately, that isn't against the law until she presses charges." He said sadly.

"What if that isn't an option? What happens when she cannot stop the blows or the insults? Who speaks for her then? What if it's too late?"

He opened his mouth but quickly closed it in a release of air. He could not argue with the sad truth that the system he believed in religiously was indeed flawed, but in the same breath he could not admit that his life's work was also flawed.

"Do you need a ride home?" It was his way of asking if she was going to be okay and to an extent offering his hand to pull her away from the void she accidentally slipped into once again.

"That's okay. I'll be fine." She said snapping her gloves off and into the trash.

"Let me walk you out then." When she rolled her eyes at his protective offer he added, "for my sake, not yours."

She smiled. "If it makes you feel better."

"Always." He answered closing the door on that part of the day.