Chapter Eight: Shock Recovery

Greg: So, now that you've managed to piss a bunch of reviewers off by writing a spoiler for the end of the plot, are you actually going to write an actual chapter?

Yeah, I figured it was better than writing an essay about the AARP and their policy influencing.

Greg: Yeah, it would seem.

And I'm still on a high from being the cause of an argument between two sophomores in college. It makes me feel sexy, you know?

Greg: And you left me locked in your room all weekend so I couldn't go and protect you?

… Yeah. I wanted that moment in the dorm shower damn it!

Greg: …?

Actually, I didn't. I was avoiding most everyone all weekend and trying to jump start my plot writing.

Greg: Ah. Write.

Right?

Greg: No. Write. You teased these people, abandon them for a weekend and over a month and they fucking deserve it.

*salute* Yes sir!

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"Greg, can you remember what was said? Anything that might help us?" Captain Brass immediately took the young lab tech aside to question him before the others could influence him through their inquiries.

"Yeah, he has her. He … wants us to find him before he kills her. He gave us a week."

"How about his accent or voice. Is there anything distinctive about it?"

"It sounded… of a lower education that was trying to cover up that fact. He asked to make sure he had my name right and…" Greg paused to reflect back on the phone conversation. "He sounded like either an immigrant or someone who had been influenced by heavily accented peers."

"And that's all?"

"All for now. If I remember anything else, I'll let you know immediately."

"Alright, Sanders. Do you mind if my guys set up a tap on your home phone?"

"Not at all. Here, take my keys."

The captain left after taking the young man's keys, nodding to the other CSIs and motioning to a few of his men. Gil took it upon himself to talk to Greg, as a supervisor and … friend.

"Greg, can we-?" he cocked his head in the direction of the relative seclusion of Kitty's cramped pantry.

"Sure."

After ensuring that they were relatively shielded from the investigators prowling the premises, Grissom turned back to his DNA technician, who was currently in the process of examining his fingernails. He could tell from the hunched shoulders and avoidant eyes that Greg was trying to hide just how tired and worried he was from his boss.

This wasn't going to be easy.

"Greg?"

"Look, I know what you're going to say Griss, and I would really rather just work. I have to help out somehow. I mean, I saw her last, I should have told her to go right to bed and ignore any knocking or whatever. I could have even invited her over to my place for a drink or video game before going off. Something, anything."

"Greg, you're in shock. You have to go and get some sleep," Grissom noted the argumentative posture of his lab tech, "even if only for a few hours. Go and come back here when you can't stand it anymore. We'll need you fresh and ready to do some heavy duty work."

The fight went completely out of the young man, catching the morbid stipulation in his last three words. Paling, he nodded and rushed to join the Captain and his men for a lift back to his place after calling a quick 'farewell' to Sara.

It was going to be an eternity trying to fall asleep.

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W00t! I am done with this installment!

Greg: Ahem.

Oh, yeah. I owe y'all an apology. I have been really fricking busy for the last month. It all started when I found out that I was failing my AP Government class, so I was trying to catch up. And guess what? I now have a weighted B from all the work I was doing! *dances for joy* And I also recently attended the MegaCon in Orlando! You may have seen me, I was one of the two Faye Valentine's there. For clarification, I was the one with purple hair, glasses, cigarettes and hanging around the female dressed as Spike, one as Vicious, another as Rikku, another as Julia, one as a Mary-Sue and one as a Writer. We made for a strange and sexy bunch.

Greg: When did you develop a social life?

Since I decided to stop freaking out over the mundane stuff and become a cynical and apathetic bitch about it.

Greg: Ah hell, who did the transformation?

I blame the school for ruining my dreams through their unrealistic expectations and demands on weary minds and bodies, thus desecrating my spirit.

Greg: Very poetic.

Thank you. Stay tuned for more inane squabbling! And, since a new semester has begun with five weeks for me to fall behind, more chapters and actual progressions! Glee!