A/N: Here is what I like to call, the second chapter of the first. Very orginal, huh? Anyways, my beta, who this is of course dedicated to, ran an idea by me while reading through the first chapter. To please her, I made another to add the tiny bit in. And you know what? It's not even in the chapter! Oh gosh, I just realised that. Oh me oh my...

Disclaimer: I own nothing that is associated with or contained in this story. That all belongs to the wonderful (Ha!) people over at CBS, Mr. Jerry B. and of course, Mr. Anthony Z.

Summary: Once again, there is a confrontation. Maybe I'm taking this thing a little too far. Anyways, panic ensues for some people (Bet ya can't guess who) and yeah.


He knocked lightly on the already opened door; knuckles against wood. He hoped, if only for a second, that Grissom would go temporarily deaf and not hear the knock upon his office door. Greg even hoped, while standing frozen in the doorway, that the eyes of his boss would not glance upwards, silently investigating his body language. That was something that always made Greg look himself over before visiting Grissom. Those eyes were always scrutinizing something, wanting to know the secrets of whatever lay in their direct path.

However, with every hope and wish that ran through his body, Grissom hadn't gone deaf and those eyes did look up. The look was there, as it always was, and maybe he even saw confusion in them. Greg remembered the last conversation that had taken place between the two, and understood why confusion would be woven in the look. He had left Grissom standing in the break room with the words, "Remember when you told me that you'd be around if I ever needed to talk? Well, the offer is being reciprocated." echoing in both their minds. Grissom was the one who was supposed to be looking for someone to talk to, not the other way around.

"Come in, Greg." Grissom's words were soft, almost questioning yet understanding. In Greg's mind, Grissom was an oxymoron of many. His expressions, his mannerisms. It was all one big contradiction, and maybe one way was the way Grissom truly was and the other was when Grissom realized how he was acting and remembered the right way. Whether his theory was true or not, Greg didn't know and wasn't about to find out anytime soon. It was hard enough for him to even step near this office ever since yesterday. Heck, he had been so afraid to take one step out of the DNA Lab that he had bribed Archie with a five dollar bill to get him some coffee.

Greg slowly took a step, then another, hesitant as to whether this was the calm before the storm. He had taken a few strips off his boss's back and even though he had been avoiding Grissom as much as possible, he couldn't avoid this. This was what he called looking for help, confiding in somebody other than his pet cat, Adagio. So, silent as possible, Greg settled himself in the chair in front of Grissom's desk and watched the older man write a few more words upon a piece of paper. It was almost like a ballet, the symphonic music playing heavenly in the background, and this man, his boss, putting everything methodically away in their specific spot. Almost was the key word there, as a ballet was more poetic than the mere task of putting pieces of paper into piles.

"What's on your mind, Greg?" He kept the wince from showing on his face, words in a very Grissom-like tone saying what the man would never say. "Anymore love advice you'd like to share with me? Before I fire you?" He was grateful those words would never be heard in reality, as the ones in his mind horrified him enough. However, Greg was the one to come to Grissom, not the other way around. Today wasn't the day he would get fired, unless Grissom was waiting for the end of shift, waiting for everybody to leave so Greg wouldn't have to be humiliated in front of everybody. Then, the next night, when people questioned where Greg was and what happened to the stereo in the DNA Lab, Grissom will explain some story made up previously about some sick mother or sibling. That was how things worked, right? It had happened back in New York, so why wouldn't Las Vegas be any different?

"I..." he paused, the thought of running away as fast as possible from the office entering his mind. Taking a deep breath, Greg willed himself to continue on talking, just like he'd done in the past. Keep rambling until either someone tells you to shut up or you've reached your point. Then the look of complete annoyance Grissom would give him, as he always did, flashed in the front of his mind and decided getting directly to the point would be a much safer plan. If not, the look may dwindle the last bit of self-esteem he was holding onto, down to nothing. "I need a number to a shrink."

To say the shock upon Grissom's face was covered quite well may have been like comparing corn to sheep. It just didn't work because Greg caught the stunned look, watching it settle on Grissom's face for a minute or two, before it was shaken away. The same thing had happened the day before, but only for a second, and if he hadn't been in the room when it occurred, he would have thought it was all a dream. A horrible dream.

The frown now starting to be formed by Grissom's lips unnerved Greg slightly. He wasn't sure as to why a frown would be there instead of the line that his boss's mouth was usually in when concerning the lab tech. The blank look, masking emotions, would have been something he was accustomed to, but this concern that was making its way forward. The whole concept was starting to freak him out, to say the least, and as the thought of how much of a stupid idea this was, Greg began to lift himself out of the chair.

Why couldn't he have just opened the phone book and looked for the psychiatrist himself? At the time, back in his lab, he had come to the conclusion that Grissom would know an exceptional shrink. Why Grissom would have a shrinks phone number handy, he wasn't sure, but that was then, when all ideas seemed great. Nothing was ever thought out, with each possibility, good and bad, in mind. His World was what many people called it, where everything worked no matter what. Mostly, he left them to believe whatever they wanted while sometimes, he agreed. A lot of his ideas were so stupid that even he wondered what chemical he'd been sniffing.

"Sit down and tell me why you need a shrink." The demanding but soft words interrupted the current motion he was in, getting out of the chair and away from Grissom. Half out of the chair, and already half turned, ready to run, he turned his head slightly to look. Every emotion that had been shown was gone, leaving the blank face he had come to know, so Greg slowly sat down once more.

Now, faced with the actual task of getting the words out and explaining why he had come, he knew it was a mistake. Mouth open, ready to start talking, Greg knew that whatever was to come out wouldn't be the complete truth. He couldn't tell Grissom, but with those eyes looking him over, Greg didn't doubt the fact that Grissom already knew. It was probably one of those twisted challenges of his, where he knew what was going on, but you didn't, so he asked all the right questions, hoping you'd sooner or later figure it out. Maybe by the ending of this meeting he wouldn't need a shrink after all.

"I've just been having a hard time, you know?" Of course Grissom didn't know because nobody knew except Greg. For about a month he'd kept every dark feeling inside, wishing everything to go back to normal. The doctor at the hospital had recommended a psychiatrist, but once reaching home, Greg had torn the card up and threw it out the window. Unfortunately, his cat had thought it would be neat to also go out the window. Thankfully Adagio wasn't harmed, just a bruised ego after landing in a tree.

Grissom's eyes were once more gazing at Greg, pondering what could happen next. Greg was afraid there would be more questions, as to why he was having a hard time, and so on and so forth. Part of him wished he could tell Grissom, let somebody know what was eating him up inside, but the more dominant part of his brain told him that it was for the best. This way, with Grissom not knowing the truth, there would be no concerned looks hidden in the shadows, behind people's backs. One day someone would notice and then the whole building would know, including their uncles.

"Here you go, Greg." While Greg had been jiggling his leg up and down, mind set on panic mode, Grissom had flipped through his address wheel. It amazed Greg how things could go unnoticed by his eyes while they were happening right in front of his face, and how quiet Grissom moved. Leaning forward slightly, Greg took the card from between Grissom's fingers and glanced down at the writing. A Ms. Felture would be getting a call the next day to set up an appointment for a reluctant patient.

"Thank you." With that said, Greg pushed himself upwards from the chair and started towards the door. The open door. A small wince showed up on his face as he realized anybody could have gone past and heard his request. It must have been obvious what he was thinking as Grissom's words reached his ears once more.

"Nobody went past." A sigh of relief passed his lips as he nodded his thanks. Now it was time to leave, but one more question beat its way to the front of his mind. He struggled to move his feet forwards, a few more steps and he would be home free. However, he felt himself turning to face Grissom again, and found those eyes still staring.

"Have you talked to Sara yet?" The words were out before he could run, before he could clench his fists to occupy his mind. Greg's shoulders sagged as he realized there was nothing he could do now, but stand there and wait for an answer. It was then that he was reminded of what he was worrying about only moments before, and swiftly shut the door. This was something that couldn't be risked being heard by some passer-by. Sara would eventually find out, and if she did, she might not have been too happy to have conversations going on about her behind her back.

"No. Now, I believe you have some work to do." That feeling was back again, the one he had felt yesterday. Annoyance with his boss filled him and when he got annoyed, he got angry. Greg narrowed his eyes and shook his head, wondering what kept Grissom from talking to Sara. The job was important to the supervisor, he knew that, but the man loved Sara, and nothing could stand in the way of love. Some may call Greg a hopeless romantic, but he didn't care because maybe he was, and maybe true love wasn't real, but that couldn't stop a man from trying.

"I'm not going until you tell me a good reason as to why you haven't talked to her, or I'm going to frog march you down that hallway and look for her." A sigh escaped the older mans lips as he leaned forward, elbows now placed on the desk. It was amazing how quickly Grissom could change from a man that looked calm and in control to someone who didn't have a clue as to what to do next.

"I love my job as much as you love girls, possibly more, and I don't want to jeopardize mine or Sara's job with the prospect of starting a relationship." Greg crossed his arms and frowned, knowing that Grissom was doing what he thought was best for both parties, but he also knew that the mans heart wasn't in the decision. It was the way his tone changed when he spoke about the matter at hand, like he was resigning himself to the fact that nothing could ever be.

"Have you talked to Sara about the decision?" There was a brief pause as Grissom glanced at the lab tech, who nodded in response. "Right, sorry. I was being dumb. Of course you haven't talked to her about it." Greg threw himself into the chair in front the desk and rubbed his forehead in frustration. "I understand you don't want Sara to lose her job, and that you don't want to hurt her, but you're hurting her even more by engaging in this little game you're playing."

"I am not play-"Greg shook his head, which made Grissom stop the denial. The conversation was starting to become a repeat of yesterday's, only with different words. Another sigh was heard in the room, this time from Greg, plans forming in his mind. Many took place within a few seconds, real time sped up to fit the slotted amount he had. There had to be something that could convince Grissom.

"You love her, and yes I know." Although his eyes were shut, Greg could anticipate the reaction Grissom was about to give at those words. "I know you love your job, but in ten- maybe fifteen- years, who's going to still be there? Your job or a companion?" Opening his eyes, he saw Grissom rubbing his own forehead. Taking that as a sign, he stood up to leave.

While turning the handle to the door, light starting to filter in from the outside corridor, Greg said, "I expect you to be thinking hard about this. And doing something to fix it soon." He paused as if waiting for a response of some kind, but when none came, he muttered a final 'thanks' and left. Light also left as the door was closed again, leaving Grissom to his thoughts.


A/N: Now that you've read it, tell me how you think! Don't be afraid, I won't harm you in anyway. Only nice insults will be tolerated, and hopefully will be the only ones given. Also, if anybody can guess what I did different stylistically, (is that a word?) I'll give you some cookies. Dumbest challenge ever, but it makes me happy. Now review! Please?