UNDER PRESSURE
A WEEK AGO
Grissom looked at the single sheet of paper resting on his desk. It wasn't the first time he'd ever filled out a Request for Leave of Absence, but this time he had hesitated before filling each line and right now he couldn't bring himself to sign it.
He'd really thought he'd stay in Las Vegas a little longer. Oh, he knew better than to hold on to things like posts and titles, but he had liked it here. Sixteen years didn't feel long; he had loved his work and the routine had been comforting; he had been in control; there had been a healthy balance between his job and his private life. At least up until a few months ago.
Different things had shaken down that precious balance and suddenly he felt he couldn't handle life here anymore.
First, the possibility of losing his hearing. It had forced him to face the fact that he might have to start over. He could write or teach, of course; it certainly wasn't the end of the world but he dreaded any change. He'd been relieved when the operation was a success but by then Sara had asked him out, shaking the foundations of their relationship and that balance that Grissom treasured so much. He dealt with it by denying there was any problem.
And then other things happened that would have mattered very little if he had dealt with them from the beginning:
Nick, whining about wanting to work solo
Nick and Sara urging him to make a decision about the promotion
Rumors that Catherine had been seeing Sam Braun
Eckley, telling him that someone had seen Warrick entering a Casino…
Grissom never confronted his coworkers. As long as they did their jobs, he'd let them whine and sulk and live their private lives as they wished. Balance, he told himself.
And then he'd blown off that precarious balance by getting personally involved in a case. The Melvin Martin case.
Grissom was packing his diplomas when someone in a nearby office turned on the radio. He paused to listen.
He was wondering about the lyrics when Brass entered his office.
"Looks like you're moving" he noted
"I'm cleaning house for Catherine"
"Uh, huh." He crossed his arms "By the way, I heard you have a job waiting for you in Chicago.
Grissom crossed his arms.
"I'm not even going to ask how you know that, Jim; cops are notorious gossipers. It's just an offer," he shrugged "I still don't know if I'll accept it, although it would be the right thing to do" he said, sealing the box. "Everybody here would get a promotion, a raise-"
"What about you? Do you think your problems will disappear?"
"Sure. Each of my problems has a name. Nick, Sara, Catherine, Warrick, Brass" he said pointedly "I won't be jeopardizing your cases anymore-"
"Hey, you can't blame me for caring about my cases!" Brass protested, "But Gil, you can't erase problems; you have to solve them. You might change jobs but you'll still have to deal with the Martin case."
"I don't need to deal with it. It's a closed case." Grissom sat behind his desk. He looked around thoughtfully and then he sighed "I've been walking a fine like lately, Jim. I can't trust myself anymore-"
"Hey, listen, buddy: We all hit a wall some time in our life." Brass said reasonably, "But what you are doing here is dangerous, Gil. Denial only complicates matters. Your life becomes a ticking bomb-"
"Maybe" Grissom admitted, leaning back on his chair "But don't worry; I won't go off here."
Brass shook his head and left.
Grissom distractedly muttered a song.
Damn; now he'd never be able to get those lyrics out of his head now.
(The song is "Under Pressure", performed by Queen and David Bowie, abused years later by Vanilla Ice)
