Chapter One
Grissom

The hum of the lab is greatly welcomed. People walk briskly from one station to another, others dwindle away time as the computers do their work, and investigators stand close by waiting for a break in the cases. I've missed this place more than you know. Although the outcome of otosclerosis surgery are generally a success, there was a chance I would have continued to lose my hearing, and this place that I love so much as well. Yet here I am, my secret safely behind me, and I'm ready to move forward again. I can start to enjoy working again.

I scan the lab as I walk unnoticed down the corridor. My eyes immediately fall on Greg Sanders, who just commenced a fluid Moonwalk to the printer. I smile and walk in his direction.

"Hi, Greg."

He jumps. "Grissom, what are you doing here?"

"This is my lab. I'm supposed to be here."

"Not 'til Friday is what I heard," he says letting his eyes wander over me. He smiles brightly. "Love the beard."

I touch my face with a frown.

"So, are you coming to check up on me?"

"It never hurts. What are you doing here so early?" I ask, remaining in character despite my mood. "The shift doesn't start for another hour."

He sighs. "Well it's been a little busy here. Catherine is really riding me for samples I didn't even know I had. It was wearing me thin so I decided to come in early tonight to do some catching up."

I nod but can't help but wonder why he does that to his hair.

"So what did you do on your days off? Hawaii? Caribbean Cruise? Skiing in the Rockies? Lounging in..."

"I stayed home," I say cutting him short. "Not that it is any of your business."

"Right. You know if I had paid vacation time I'd take the whole two weeks off. I don't mess with halves."

"That's why you're not supervisor."

He smiles. "Give me time and I'll have your job under my thumb."

I raise an eyebrow and begin to walk away. "I'll see you later."

"Good to have you back, boss!"

With an hour until the shift starts, I make my way towards my office to enjoy the familiar peace. It will be time to think and time to read some of the files Catherine has without a doubt left on my desk. But I don't even make it that far before the politics of being unit supervisor pounce on me.

"Gil. Haven't seen you wandering the lab lately."

I force a smile to form as Conrad Eckley walks up to me. "Too bad we couldn't keep it that way."

He delivers a wicked grin. "Hey have you met the new sheriff? He has great ambitions for the lab."

"Really? We are still second best, and last time I check we are competing quite nicely for the number one lab in the country this year."

"That may be true, but some things have got to change before we get there. Our sheriff has the character to pull it off."

"We'll see," I say dryly.

"You'll certainly have things to talk about since your CSI's tend to get ahead of themselves an awful lot," he says cryptically. "Have you had a chance to look at the time sheet?"

"No, I haven't," I say feeling my jaw tighten with disgust.

"It seems your CSI's can't tell time." He hands me the paper logging hours put in for every CSI that he just happened to have with him.

CSI Night Shift --Brown, Warrick: 54 hours. Sidle, Sara: 66 hours. Stokes, Nick: 55 hours. Willows, Catherine: 60 hours.

I look up. "You know I took a few personal days. The numbers don't surprise me."

"They surprised the sheriff," he shoots back. "He made a good point that overworked CSI's lead to recklessness, and recklessness can lead to mistakes, which lead to money and credibility losses for the entire lab."

"If our new sheriff thinks that, I suggest he look at the stats for graveyard. I think our efficiency rate is still in the outstanding range and we hold more cases solved than other teams," I retort feeling myself grow angrier but also prouder.

"Come on, Gil. Sixty-six hours? That doesn't seem excessive?" He asks bitterly.

"No."

"Isn't Sidle the one that almost got shot for busting into a suspect's apartment a couple months ago? That seems reckless to me."

"It was the same day of the lab explosion. We were all shaken," I say through clenched teeth. "And where were you while my team cleaned up the mess and worked new cases pouring through the door?"

He chuckles. "You're right. Your CSI's don't play cops and robbers, they just blow up labs."

"I don't have time for this." I walk past him.

"Sidle has plenty of time. She must be going for a record in overtime hours or trying to get you to notice her."

I turn around instantly and walk straight up to his face. He crossed so many workplace lines, not to mention my own personal one that I can't help myself. Before I can say anything or show him how wrong he is, there is a tug at my elbow. It is Catherine.

"How are you doing Eckley?" Catherine asks in a snide tone. "Still feel cozy between the cheeks of our new sheriff?"

He snorts, looks at me, and walks away. I can't believe he would lash out at Sara or my team like that. Even for Eckley that was a little brazen. He must feel really comfortable with this new sheriff.

"Back for not even a day and you've already assumed your roll of Politically Tone Deaf."

I round on her. "Catherine, why is the entire team is putting in over fifty hours a week?"

Her brow knits in confusion. "Do you think we were playing tag? We were working, Gil. I can't help it that so many people died in four days."

"You could have asked for one of day shift's guys. Eckley has always got more people than us."

"And risk being slowed down by an outsider? We wouldn't have gotten done half of the work."

I run a hand through my hair in frustration. Things started so perfectly and now this.

"The team is all here," she says softly.

I look at my watch. "Shift doesn't start for almost an hour."

"Fifty-two minutes to be exact and they haven't clocked in yet so don't worry."

"Let's go."

The lounge isn't too lively with activity, but to my surprise everyone is there. Nick is leaning back in his chair reading an ESPN magazine while Warrick stands next to the coffee pot talking to Sara. My stomach cartwheels when she unsuspectingly turns around to instantly lock with my eyes.

She looks great, and for a split second I want to tell her.

"Grissom!" Nick cries breaking our connection. "What are you doing here?!"

I'm really no longer in the mood for the festivities. The run in with Eckley and the thought of a new sheriff is really taking its toll on me. "I got a little restless," I say unemotionally.

"You grew a beard," he says shaking my hand and moving aside. "It looks good."

"It's good to have you back, Gris," Warrick says stepping up to also shake my hand. "Catherine's a really bad boss."

I try to smile, but it falters when Sara attentively steps up to me but not too close.

"We didn't expect you for two more days."

"A week was too long."

She fakes a smile and falls into a seat. Soon they all follow her lead and I start. Looking at their faces, the faces I would come to miss along with the work, I really didn't want to get into the hours policy. But I couldn't just let it go now –not after the run in with Eckley, who probably plans to arrange a special meeting for me and the sheriff as soon as possible.

"First thing's first, I was informed you're all over in hours. I know it's been hectic but starting tonight, I want you all out of here on time."

"What?" Warrick shakes his head. "You've got to be kidding us? They are already attacking us? This is so much crap."

I hold up a tired hand. "We need to be below the radar for a change, so everyone needs to be gone by time to leave."

A series of miserable nods go around the table. I know how they feel.

"Okay, there's a suicide jumper at the MGM, but it looks suspicious," I say reading from the slip of paper. "Warrick, you and Nick get down there as soon as possible. Catherine, you're with me, and Sara, I'm placing you in the lab."

"What?"

I look directly at her. "You've logged the most time at sixty-six hours. You are on standby and lab duty until further notice."

"It's the middle of the month!" She exclaims standing up.

My mouth drops open in surprise. She glares at me then shakes her head as if she expected this.

"Fine. I'll be in the lab if anyone needs me."

The rest file out behind her without looking at me.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::

"Grissom?"

I look up from the microscope to meet Catherine's figure walking towards me. "Did you get a result on those fibers?"

"No, Hodges is working Trace." She straddles a stool nearest me. "Look, Grissom, I know you were doing what you had to do, and I'm behind you one hundred percent, but you really could have handled the start of shift better."

"Catherine, I had to pull her off. She had the most hours," I say turning back to my sample. I don't need Catherine reminding me about Sara.

"I know, but while you were gone I could really count on her to pick up the slack." She pauses.

"Your little speech was a harsh even for you."

"I didn't mean anything to be harsh."

"I'm just saying, for a first day back you're picking fights with the last person you should."

"Eckley was just trying to get under my skin. It is what he does best."

"I meant Sara."

I glance over at her but remain silent towards her trick of words.

"Anyway, I intercepted this new case that has come in and thought you'd like a priority delivery." She drops the new slip of paper on the table and leaves without another word.

I pick up the paper and rub it between my fingers in contemplation. I'm really starting off on the wrong foot if I keep doing this to her. Things have changed so much between us, I'm not sure we can pick up right where we left off. I've got to face her sooner or later though.

So after spending five minutes asking where she was, I accidentally found her in the computer lab surrounded by only the soft glow of a nearby lamp.

"Sara?"

She looks up, startled but her expression never changes when she speaks my name. "Grissom." I can't say I didn't expect this kind of treatment. When I glance toward the screen I'm met with a jumble of words and formatting frames. "What are you doing?"

"Archie created software that catalogs cases by names and numbers. I'm giving it a trial run."

"It would save a lot of time and confusion," I say watching her mouse click various commands.

"Yup. The only hassle is getting the files into the computer."

I look at the stack of case files next to her computer. "You're going to type all that up?"

"I would have plenty of time, but no I'm not." She spins around in her chair. "I scan the pictures and the forms into the computer, and then I use an office software program to create identical digital forms from the original worksheets. Most of it is copy and paste from there. The computer does most of the work."

"It sounds daunting."

"It is, but like I said, I've got plenty of time."

I resist the urge to sigh. "Listen, Catherine told me how well you handled yourself while I was taking a few days off and I wanted to thank you."

"I really didn't have much of a choice," she says studying the screen. "I did my share, but so did the others."

"I appreciate it," I choke out, still insistent.

Okay that didn't go as I hoped it would.

"Is that all you wanted, because I want to get through as much of this as I can before I go home." She cuts through my train of thought like a razor.

I drop the slip of paper in front of her. "A body was found in the alleyway between Julliard Boulevard and Jackson Street. It's yours if you want it."

She looks at me without a spark of interest on her face or in her eyes. "What about flying under the radar?"

"I guess we need to work around it, because you're all I got right now. Brass will meet you there."

She seems skeptical at first. I begin to think she will choose to be stubborn rather than take the case assignment, but she quickly rises from her chair to leave without a word, much less a 'thank you'.