Chapter Five: Missing Kitty
Greg: So, have you gotten that e-mail yet?
No, it saddens me. I'm so intrigued, and even hunted down the story. I'd love to hear the ideas.
Greg: Hn. Did you like tonight's episode?
HELL YEAH! Very nice shots of you, if I may say.
Greg: But I was a jerk to Cat.
But we love you anyways. *shrug* I giggled.
Greg: I felt cheap.
*melodramatic* I feel so cheap. I feel so used!
Greg: You've been talking to your 'Kit' friend again, haven't you?
Yes, although she is not to be confused for 'Kitty' as she is 'Kitteh.'
Greg: . . .
*yoink* *giggle*
Greg: Damn it. Not again.
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The next graveyard shift had begun almost four hours ago. Greg had been busy with the backlog, and hadn't had a chance to grab any coffee or talk to anyone yet. Glancing over at his clock, he decided he earned a well-deserved break.
He poured a nice big mug of Blue Hawaiian coffee, his special coffee. That was the best thing he tasted all day. He allowed his eyelids to close as he savored the taste, and let the caffeine seep its way into his bloodstream, rejuvenating his energy. He heard Grissom come into the lounge, and "Hn" ed in greeting.
"Greg, do you know where Kitty is?
Any relaxation he found immediately drained from him as his stomach clenched. He gulped in anxiety, "What do you mean? Has she gone AWOL? Or MIA?"
"She isn't here and didn't call in sick. She didn't answer her home phone, cell, beeper or text message."
"Ah, the 21st century. Isn't it hard to reach someone with all the new technological advances? Something so easy is oh so hard to do, especially when trying to reach-"
"Listen, have you spoken to her at all?"
"Ah, last night. I," he looked down at his coffee cup, "drove her home. But that's all we did. Drive home. Yeah…"
Grissom raised his left eyebrow.
Greg went to say something else, but decided to contemplate his coffee.
"Well, since you know where he residence is, how about you go and check on her?"
"Gris, I've got this dire request from Sarah- she'll rip my eyes out if I don't do it- and a follow up from Nick, and besides, you gave me some samples-"
"Greg, just go."
"Okay, you're the boss."
"Let me know when you get there, what's happening."
"Sure thing."
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He pulled into a parking spot not too far from the entrance of her building. There appeared to be no signs of any foul play. He only hoped that the same was true for her apartment.
After suavely convincing the manager to let him into her room, he ascended the flights to her loft. There was nothing amiss on the lock.
Once the door was opened however, a different tale was shown.
Greg turned away in horror, covering his mouth with a shaking hand. As though on autopilot, he pulled the cell phone from his jacket pocket and dialed Grissom. Only after the connection was made did he dare turn his head to look back into her loft.
"Gris, we've got a situation. Send Brass. And I think we'll need a couple CSI's."
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Greg: You love cliffs.
Oh yeah. You looked hot on the People's Choice Awards.
Greg: I'm flattered.
You should be.
Greg: And every guy needs his boxers back.
Nothin' doin'.
Greg: Damn you.
I love you too.