Disclaimer: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation, it's characters and likeness do not belong to me. All Ilay claim to is the idea behind this story.

The start of the case had been a cause of joy but a few days later, having put Crystal away for the crime, Greg found himself not joyful but disheartened. Life was never meant to be fair, all the cases he ever worked on proved that, but once in a while a break was appreciated. The problem was Greg never got the breaks he wanted.

'I screw up my first case and Chandra quits. I could have tolerated one or the other but not both!' Greg thought to himself, sulking as he pulled out a few things from his locker. His keys were shoved into his pocket, jabbing him in the thigh but he didn't care.

"Greg? Are you alright?"

Lifting his face up from the crook of his elbow Greg looked over his shoulder to locate Warrick's voice. The taller man stood uncertainly in the doorway. Greg scrubbed his face with his free hand before turning to rest his shoulder against the locker beside his. "Just going home," he replied quickly, shutting his locker and spinning the lock.

Greg made his way for the door but Warrick didn't move, blocking the only way out from the locker room. Greg opened his mouth to speak but Warrick beat him. "I want to talk."

"Could you please move-"

"I'll only be a min-"

"Not now."

"Please-"

"Brown, I've had a really bad day and I just want to go home and sleep," Greg said sharply, his voice and eyes suddenly awake and vicious. "If you need to bum money because of your loss to Nick go bother someone else. I don't want to be the butt of your dumb bets."

"Actually I want to talk to you about that," Warrick added quickly before Greg could cut him off again. The verbal punches that Greg threw at him were ignored in favour of the plan he had in mind. "I'm sorry-"

"You're sorry!" Greg repeated none too peacefully. His outburst earned him curious glances from a day shift CSI and an officer but Greg was oblivious in his anger. He pushed forward into the hands that took him by his upper arms, guiding his protesting form in reverse back into the locker room. "Sorry you doubted me? Sorry that I'm a fool? Sorry that you didn't get a chance to laugh at me?" Between his struggling and ranting Greg's breath was coming in short gasps that left him light-headed. He didn't feel himself stumble or realise that he was being lowered by strong hands to sit on the bench across from the lockers.

"It's nothing like that at all, though I am sorry for making you believe those things," Warrick began from his seat beside Greg. He slid his hand up to rest on Greg's shoulder. "But mostly I'm sorry that Chandra didn't work out."

"Right then, so tell me why you bet against her?" Greg snapped, shrugging his shoulder down and away from Warrick's hand.

"Nick bid against her, I thought Chandra would stay here," Warrick explained, letting Greg put as much distance between them as he slid away down the bench.

"The least you could have done was make her feel welcome," Greg said, his fading anger lowering the pitch of his voice. He didn't look up from his unclenching fists, not wanting Warrick to think he was letting go of the fight. He wanted to be angry but listening to Warrick's calm voice was working against his desires.

"Yeah, well none of us are perfect," Warrick admitted. Greg caught a sad smile on Warrick's face from the corner of his eye. He turned his attention away as he noticed Warrick bowing his head to match his own stance. "If I stood up for her maybe she wouldn't have minded the gang up-"

"Gang up?" Greg was up for the second round, his eyes flashing.

"Nick and Hodges - and Catherine earlier," Warrick answered to Greg's unvoiced question. "If I did say something maybe she'd still be here and you'd be out there on your second chance. If I was allowed a second chance then you definitely deserve one. I'm sorry you even need a second chance."

Slowing sitting upright, feeling muscle and nerves ripple along his back, Greg felt like he was walking underwater, limbs and head struggling under their own weight to move. Bewildered and not believing what he heard he looked over to Warrick. "What do you mean?"

"What do I mean?" Warrick offered Greg an amused smile but replaced it with a kind expression. "The few times I've seen you working on a case with us rather then for us you've always been so eager to try, no matter how hard it might be. You know what you're doing and when you don't you're the first in line to learn. You want to be an investigator and you're already one, even if you don't have the paperwork to prove it. But you deserve it; you deserve to be a CSI. That's why I bet for Chandra. Because if she was hired as your replacement you'd be with us, you'd be one of us."

The sincerity Greg found in Warrick's eyes surprised him, throwing him off guard. Sitting as far away from Warrick as he was Greg felt safer, away from the eyes that seemed to know his inner desire. "You're just saying..."

Greg didn't finish, too uncertain to know what he wanted to say. He could feel words on the tip of his tongue but they lay behind his lips, hesitating. Warrick picked up on his hesitance and stood, keeping his expression open and accepting. "I'm saying the truth. I know this probably wasn't the best time to talk, seeing as you have had a bad day but I needed to apologise for being a jerk to you and Chandra."

Warrick turned for the exit, pausing for one last glance to a quiet contemplative Greg. With a small smile and a soft spoken later he left Greg to himself at last.