Issues by SLynn
Disclaimer: I own only the thoughts in my head and the characters you don't recognize.
Notes: Hello to my faithful holiday reviewers: fading-lights, A Bloom, Sillie, and Miss-Andromache. Even those of you who don't celebrate – I hope you've had wonderful weekends! Yeah, I've pretty much worked myself into a writing frenzy. I just can't stop because I'm getting to the parts I really wanted to write. This isn't quite it yet, but it's close. I'm giddy with excitement and basically driving my family nuts.
A Bloom – I'm so glad you liked the 'cad' line because I loved it but almost took it several times. Now I'm glad I left it. : )
Miss-Andromache – I like Nick and Amy too. I'd never really planned it, of course I'd never planned Greg and Sara either, so who knows.
Oh and I just noticed I named two of my chapters the same. Huge, duh! I'm really bad at chapter titles. I'll fix it tomorrow. This is my last one for tonight.
Again, thanks to everyone who reads even if you don't review!
Chapter 18: Multi-Media
"So why don't you tell me more about your job?"
Greg took a sip of his soda and sighed.
"What do you want to know? It's kind of dull. I play with test tubes all day."
Dr. Fenton laughed a little, but wasn't going to let up.
"Seriously Greg, Dr. Tracey told me about what's happened. That can't make you feel good?"
"Being demoted. No, it didn't. It was my own fault though. I mean, if I'd of just swallowed my own pride and told Grissom…"
"I'm sorry; Grissom is your boss right?"
"Was, well sort of still is."
"Please continue."
"Yeah, well if I'd have just told him about the therapy in the first place I'd still be in my old job. I mean, I couldn't have worked the case regardless. I'm lucky they let me help at all."
"They? Grissom still lets you help, despite the demotion?"
"Him, Cath and Warrick. I'm doing some research on the side. Nothing with the actual evidence."
"Still, that shows a lot of confidence in you."
"I guess," Greg answered half-heartedly.
"You'd rather do more? Be more active despite having known…"
It was as if it dawned on him.
"I'm sorry Dr. Fenton, I forgot. I mean we talk about me so much. You knew Dr. Sanchez, this can't be easy…"
He waved Greg off.
"Dr. Sanchez and I were colleagues. We've attended seminars and lectures together but were hardly close. I'm pained by her passing, but we're here to talk about you. Don't apologize for that."
Greg nodded and took in a breath.
"It just feels like I've failed. Everything in my life right now is good. I've got an amazing girl friend who loves me and great friends. I didn't have a screwed up childhood, my parents never beat me or even said a harsh word to me. Not once. And even better, I'm cancer free. Right now, clean bill of health. But I feel like I'm floundering. Like I'm failing some kind of life test. Why is that?"
"I don't have those types of answers for you."
"Maybe there's a book I can read?"
Dr. Fenton laughed again. It put Greg at ease when he did.
"Are you a spiritual person? Religious?"
"I don't know, I guess. I was raised Catholic. It's not that I'm lapsed, it's the other one."
"Non-practicing?"
"That's it. I'm non-practicing."
"So you still hold religious beliefs?"
"You sound surprised."
"Most men of science aren't. They find their answers elsewhere."
"I'm not most men of science," Greg said with a smirk.
"This I guessed."
"It's the hair isn't it?"
Life continued on. Two weeks passed since Greg's official start of remission. He'd gone to work, continued his therapy sessions and remained on the Elavil. Dr. Fenton didn't want to risk it. He felt Greg was making progress, but not enough to attempt it yet. He'd even upped his dosage slightly, but just slightly.
The Sanchez case was going better.
As it turned out they could trace all of the women back to the clinic, except one. Their Jane Doe, although still unidentified, was a regular according to Dr. Spencer. Juanita Juarez, the nurse, had worked there for two years. She'd quit just before her murder. The sixteen year old had gone in for counseling, she had been deciding on whether or not to get an abortion. And of course, Dr. Sanchez had worked there as well. The only one they couldn't directly tie in was Angie Jacobsen and her son.
The pamphlets had also proved vital. The fibers on scene matched the type used to make the paper they'd been printed on. It was a basic wood pulp mix. Fairly common which was bad. They'd hoped for something exceedingly rare, making it easier to trace. As it was, half of Nevada used the same stock.
But it wasn't a complete dead end. Sophia had been wrong about one thing; they weren't made on a computer. The only new information they had was that their guy must own a printing press. The paper was pressed, not lased. Either he had the world's best dot-matrix high-impact printer or an actual no-kidding press.
Otherwise, there was nothing new. Until one night at two-thirty Greg got a call.
"Greg Sanders," he mumbled into his phone, dragging himself out of bed.
His eyes sprang open in shock.
"Give me ten minutes."
Greg was already moving towards his dresser before he'd shut the phone off. It had been Sara and she'd been brief. There's been another murder; he needed to get to work. He wasted no time and beat his own record. He'd gotten there in eight minutes.
Amy came out of the lab and joined him as he jogged down the hall.
"What happened?" he asked her.
"Your shirts inside out."
"I'll fix it later, what happened?"
They were the only two in the conference room.
"There's been another murder," she said and didn't have to elaborate.
"When?"
"They got the call around eight. Neighbor found her, said she was worried. Hadn't seen her in a while."
"So we know who already?"
Amy nodded.
"And?"
"It was Dr. Spencer from the women's clinic."
Greg sat down and shook his head. Catherine and Warrick had put her on alert. Warned her about the potential danger, but now it didn't seem like nearly enough. But there was no way to know this was going to happen. How could anyone have known?
"Any evidence?"
"That's why you're here," Amy said in a slightly agitated voice.
"But Ecklie…"
"Doesn't want the new girl screwing it up," she interrupted. "The press is on to it. It's on the news already. You're the best; he wants you to handle all of the DNA extraction from now on."
"Great, now I'm his favorite," Greg said really angry.
"At least he knows your name. He's still calling me Annie."
Greg laughed knowing she wasn't serious.
"When will they be back?"
"Looks like now," she answered as the door came open.
The whole team poured into the room, briefly acknowledging their presence but eager to get to business. Catherine was already handing evidence bags to Amy. Surprisingly enough, after another minute the CSI's were joined by Jacqui, Archie, Hodges and most if not all of the other techs on duty.
"I'm making this quick," Grissom said looking pretty angry himself. Angrier then Greg had ever seen him. "Who in this room is talking?"
There was absolute silence.
"Someone is talking, not directly to the press, but to someone. I don't expect a confession here and now, but I do want to know. The media was at our scene tonight asking very specific questions about this case and others involving it. They knew details…"
"Um, Grissom."
Greg nearly fell out of his chair. Amy, it was Amy, actually interrupting Grissom mid-speech.
"I've just," she started, but now that everyone was looking at her awestruck at her nerve she seemed to have lost it, "It's that, the letter."
"What letter?" he asked, now looking angry and confused.
"Channel nine received a letter. About the murders. They, um, they read excerpts from it tonight on the news. It was pretty descriptive. Accurate. Talked about the other women."
"Where is it now? Do we know?"
"In the lab," she answered, feeling a bit relieved. "An officer brought it over from the station."
Grissom nodded, clearly relieved. He'd hated thinking some one in the room was telling their secrets.
"This still holds. No one in this room talks about this case to anyone unless I clear it first."
He might have been relieved, but Greg wasn't. As soon as the meeting broke up, he followed him out ignoring completely everyone else, Sara included.
"Grissom," he said, catching him back at his office, carefully shutting the door.
"Sorry to wake you Greg. Ecklie demanded you process the evidence."
"It's not that, I don't care about that."
Greg sat down in the chair in front of the desk.
"I've screwed up again," he said somewhat unnerved. His voice was starting to sound panicked even to his own ears.
"What's this about Greg?"
"My shrink. I've been talking to my shrink. I've been telling him about the case. Details, I've been going over details of an ongoing investigation. God, it's like I get in there and stop thinking. What was I thinking?"
"Greg," Grissom said firmly fixing him with a stare.
"Am I getting fired now?" he asked, seriously hoping that wasn't true.
"Greg, what you say to your psychiatrist is protected under patient-client privilege. You can talk to him about the cases if they're what's bothering you."
"Really?"
"Yes, really. Just try not to be explicit if you can help it. Besides, I doubt your psychiatrist is running to the press and if he is you can probably win a very large settlement."
Greg nodded in agreement.
"So I freaked about nothing."
"It happens."
Greg smiled.
"Guess I'll get to work on whatever it is you've come up with."
"Actually, let Amy run the DNA. Why don't you help Nick and Sara with the fingerprints."
"But Ecklie…"
"Isn't here," Grissom cut in with a smile.
Greg smiled back again and turned to go.
"And Greg?"
"Yeah boss?"
"You do know your shirt is inside out, right?"
"Its how all the cool kids are wearing them."
Grissom laughed as Greg left realizing how much he missed the levity Greg brought to the graveyard shift. Intentional or not.