Dedication: to Wynter Nytes, whose review made me laugh my ass off! I loved it!
Conrad Ecklie sat in his office, head in his hands. What the hell was he going to tell the sheriff? He had spent the past half hour puzzling it over in his mind, to no avail. Looking down at the assignment folder laying on his desk, he sighed and reached for the phone. He couldn't stall any longer. Something had to be done.
"Atwater."
"Rory, it's Conrad."
"It's late. This better be good."
Ecklie sighed. Indeed it was. "Listen, I don't know how to say this, but I fired Grissom and Sidle today, and now the entire nightshift has walked out. They say if I don't hire Grissom and Sidle back, they're all quitting."
Silence. Then a roar, "You fired the two best CSIs in our lab? Why the hell would you do that, Conrad? Listen, I don't like Gil Grissom any more than you do, but I'm damn sure smart enough to realize that we need him around here. That man is the damn finest grant writer, not to mention investigator, that I've ever seen! We wouldn't have shit in this lab if not for the grants he's written. And where the hell do you expect me to find another entomologist? They don't grow on trees, you know. Dammit, Conrad, what were you thinking?"
Ecklie sat back as the sheriff finished his rant. "Rory, they took unauthorized leave and lied about their whereabouts."
"Ok…" the sheriff said, clearly fishing for more details.
"Grissom said that his mother was in the hospital having emergency surgery, and Sidle suddenly came down with a nasty case of the flu. So when we got really backlogged around here, I started calling both of them, trying to figure out when they'd be available. I could never reach either of them, so I got suspicious. I traced Sidle's cell signal to a tower in Florida, then I finally got another signal in Atlanta. I figured they were flying, so I went to McCarran and met the next flight in from Atlanta. Sure enough, they were together. So I fired them."
"Don't you think that might have been a little hasty? Don't you think some sort of professional censure might have been a better option?"
Ecklie's temper flamed. "No! I do not! By pulling a stunt like that, they are directly undermining my authority and causing me to lose credibility with the rest of the lab!"
Atwater ignored his outburst. "And the others?" he asked, referring to the rest of the nightshift.
"I'm positive that they knew what was going on, but I can't prove it. I informed them of the firings when shift started tonight and Catherine Willows copped an attitude and informed me that they would refuse to work without Grissom and Sidle. Those pistol-whipped boys just followed her lead," he spat in disgust.
Atwater sighed heavily. "Conrad, I'm not going to lie to you. I can't stand Gil Grissom, but I think you have just made a very serious mistake. Might I remind you that while your position is not an elected one, mine is?" he spoke ominously. "And might I also remind you that I am the one who put you where you are? Thus, if I lose my position because of what you have done…" He didn't need to finish his sentence.
Ecklie was furious at the thinly-veiled threat. "I will not hire them back, Rory," he spat. "I would lose all credibility in this lab."
"And you don't think that by pulling this stunt in the first place, you already have?" Atwater let Ecklie stew over this for a moment before continuing with a sigh. "Just sit tight on it for now, Ecklie. Pull in whomever you need from the other shifts and we'll figure out what to do. Surely Willows and the others will come to their senses."
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On the widescreen TV in Grissom's townhouse, Jim Carrey, as God, was making his arch nemesis speak in total gibberish in the midst of a news broadcast. Funny as it was under normal conditions, his antics had the completely tanked nightshift howling. Just as they started to get themselves under control, the scene got even funnier, and Grissom chose that exact moment to take a swig of beer, which he promptly spewed out through his nose, causing Sara and Catherine to fall off the couch in complete hysterics. Warrick, Nick, and Greg fell against each other laughing, and Greg finally had the presence of mind to pause the DVD so they wouldn't miss anything.
A couple of minutes later, Grissom had recovered enough to say, "Damn, that burned!" while wiping his nose, sending the entire gang into fits of giggles once again.
Suddenly Nick sat straight up. "What the hell are we doing? We've gotta get Brass over here! He's got the night off!"
Nick unclipped his cell phone and speed-dialed Brass as Sara smacked her forehead drunkenly, proclaiming, "I can't believe we forgot Brass!"
Twenty minutes later, Brass was at the door. Sara lunged into his arms and cried, "Brass! I missed you!"
Brass hugged her and laughed, saying, "Gil? What have you been feeding this girl?"
Sara pulled back and smiled at Brass, saying, "It's not that. It's just that I haven't had the chance to properly thank you for knocking some sense into him!"
Brass gave her a wide grin. "Anytime, sweetheart," he said, giving her a gentle kiss on her temple. He stepped over to the couch and said, "So what's going on? Why is the entire night shift here at your apartment, Gil, instead of working?"
Five minutes later, Brass had the entire story, and was sitting in shock, open-mouthed. "Well, damn," he proclaimed. "I think I need a drink." Nick grinned and handed him a beer.
The completely sloshed Sara spoke up and said, "Brass, it was classic. You should have seen Gil. When Ecklie said we were fired, Gil said, 'then I guess I don't need to worry about losing my job when I do this,' and he punched the bastard right in the kisser! Right in the middle of the airport!" she shouted.
Five heads swiveled toward Grissom in perfect unison. No one said a word. Finally, Catherine found her voice and said, "That…was you?"
Grissom flexed his right hand and said, "Yeah. Hurts like hell now, but it felt so damn good to do it."
Nick spoke up in awe. "Warrick, Greg, Brass, how 'bout we take this man out for the nicest steak dinner money can buy, on us?"
"Hell yeah, I'm in," Warrick said.
Greg spoke up, "You are my hero, Grissom."
"Aw, hell, he was already your hero, Newbie," Nick quipped.
"Ooh, presents!" Sara squealed suddenly.
"Huh?" Nick asked, confused.
"We got everybody presents in Florida!"
"Hell yeah! Ante up," Warrick said enthusiastically.
Sara disappeared down the hallway, and came back moments later, arms loaded down with packages. Grissom stepped up and grabbed some of the bags and boxes from her.
"Ok, Catherine, this is for you and Lindsey," Grissom said, handing Catherine two loaded-down bags.
"Damn, Gil!" Catherine started digging around in her bag from Zbuz, and came up with some funky picture frames, a large assortment of bath and body products, and the pièce de resistance, a large framed picture of Grissom and Sara on their first date, in the clothing that Catherine had so carefully selected. It was a picture that Grissom had had Fred take, standing outside the limousine, especially for the purpose of recording the moment for Catherine.
Her reaction was immediate. She drew in a breath and looked up at them, wide-eyed. "You guys look…amazing," she said in awe.
Grissom shrugged. "Thanks to you, Cath. Not that Sara really needed any help, but still…"
Nick was grabbing for the picture frame, and Catherine relinquished it easily. He and Warrick and Greg crowded around it, jaws dropping. "When was this?" Nick asked, looking up.
"The night before we left for Florida," Grissom said. He proceeded to explain the entire elaborate scheme he had set up, from the calligraphy notes to the Florida trip, as well as Catherine's part in getting them dressed for their big night.
Warrick was stuck back on the penthouse suite at the Venetian. "Wait, wait, wait," he said. "Let me get this straight. You booked a penthouse suite at the Venetian, without even knowing what was going to happen? Now that's a gamble," he said, impressed. "Wait, how the hell can you afford that?"
Grissom rolled his eyes. "That's the $64,000 question, apparently," he said, not bothering to give Warrick an answer. "Ok, ok, on with the gifts."
Sara tossed Greg his bag. Looking inside, he promptly went nuts over his Hawaiian shirts, pulling one out immediately and putting it on over his t-shirt. "Thanks, guys!" he said happily.
Brass was next. Grissom handed him two bags. Brass reached into one and pulled out the vintage bottle of brandy with a wide grin. He looked up at Grissom in appreciation. Grissom shrugged. "When I told Sara that you were the one who talked some sense into me, she said, 'remind me to buy Jim some cigars and brandy,' which we did," he smiled.
Jim reached into the next bag, pulling out the expensive box of Dominicans. "Nice," he commented. "I'm going to have to talk sense into you more often," he said, winking at Sara. "Thanks, guys," he said sincerely.
Warrick and Nick were now looking at them expectantly. Sara rolled her eyes and said, "I figured we better wait to give you guys your gifts last, because once you open them, we'll never see you again."
Warrick and Nick exchanged confused looks as Sara handed them each a large bag.
They peeked inside, and suddenly the townhouse was filled with cries of, "All riiiiight!!!!" and "Hell yeah!" They pulled the hovercrafts out of the bags and immediately began tearing into the boxes, Bruce Almighty long-forgotten. When they had freed their hovercrafts from the confines of the boxes, they immediately headed outside to Grissom's driveway, the rest of the team in hot pursuit. They spent the next four hours playing on the driveway, the seven friends taking turns racing the little machines. As the pile of empty bottles on the driveway grew, so did their laughter.
By4 am, complete inebriation had taken hold of the team and eyes were starting to get heavy. Grissom herded everyone back inside and announced that no one was going anywhere in this condition. "Everyone is staying here; there's plenty of room. Warrick, Catherine, why don't you just save everybody the snide comments and just go ahead and take the guest bedroom," he snarked.
"GIL!" Catherine screeched.
"Oh, come on, Cath. Everybody knows you two have got it bad for each other. Anyway, I'm just kidding. There's not even a full-sized bed in the guest room. It's a day bed with a trundle. But that's where you two are sleeping," he said with a tone of finality. "You can…get to know each other better. Brass, take the couch. Nick, Greg, you two get sleeping bags on the floor, and you, Miss Sidle, will be sleeping with me," he said with a wink.
Nick raised an eyebrow and exchanged looks with Warrick. Alcohol certainly brought out the more…colorful side of Grissom.