Leslie's A/N: Ditto to all that. Going to the Pats playoff game tomorrow, so wanted to get some more of this posted. And may I add… WE'RE GONNA TOAST YOU MANNING!
"Coming!" A male voice yelled through the door as a high pitched wail followed. Brass and Grissom looked at each other, the child's scream already starting to irritate them. The door opened a crack and another cry was heard. The door abandoned, the voice floated out again. "I know it hurts buddy, I know..." There was grunt as weight shifted, and the door opened all the way. "Detective Brass and Dr. Grissom, I presume?"
The man in the door was a sight to behold: a shirtless, well toned man with a bare torso and sweat pants, looking like he'd just rolled out of bed with his hair sticking up and stubble dotting his face, cradled a red-faced baby to his chest, rocking back and forth a bit.
"William Melville? We can come back another time..." Brass motioned toward the whimpering baby splayed in the man's arms. While the comment was meant to be a nicety, Brass didn't really relish the idea of being around a screaming baby.
"No, no. He'll quiet down in a minute, the new medicine should be kicking in soon." The man stepped back and allowed the men into the cluttered, yet somehow neat, living room. "He's prone to nasty ear infections. We keep hoping he'll grow out of it. What can I do for you gentlemen?"
"How well do you know your neighbors Mr. Melville?" Brass questioned as Grissom kept his ear tuned to the conversation while his eyes roamed elsewhere. He took in the dark contures of the living room, the unpacked boxes stacked precariously against the walls, a bag of potato chips open on the coffee table.
"Not well I'm afraid. I don't generally see the light of day if you know what I mean." He motioned with his head to a room on the left. It was dark, except for a lone table top lamp which illuminated an incredibly messy desk. "I'm already four days late for a publishing deadline and my boss is gonna have my ass if I can't come up with an ideal cliffhanger."
William rocked side to side, which seemed the please the gurgling baby. He smiled down at his son and then back at the two men.
"Ah." Brass said, taking another quick look around himself. "Can I uh, ask you what's with all the boxes? Moving?"
William blushed and looked aroudn the room. "It would appear that way, but no. No, we just, never got around to unpacking." He shrugged his shoudlers which set his son crying once more. He winced and turned away. "I'll just be one moment, I'm gonna see if I can put him down for a nap. Make yourself comfortable... as comfortable as you can get without infringing upon my fourth amendment rights."
As soon as he was out of view, Brass turned to Grissom. "Suspicious?"
"Well, it does look like someone's getting ready to leave town but that would make no sense. The people next door said they've only been here for a few months... and judging by the lived-in feel-" Grissom cringed ever so slightly. "That this house has, I doubt there going anywhere."
Grissom caught Brass's eye and raised his brow. "But that doesn't mean they're not hiding anything under all of this... junk."
"Yeah, but... probably cause."
"There-in lies the challenge." Grissom replied and squinted in the hazy darkness of the house.
"This doesn't make any sense..." Sara said under her breath. Nick turned his head and stared at her, a curtain of hair covering her face from his view as she peered into the microscope.
"What's wrong?"
"This carpet stain... it's..." She was breathless and her face was screwed up in confusion when she looked up.
"Well? What is it?" Nick said, moving over to the microscope.
"I don't know. That's the problem."
"Sent it to trace yet?" Nick adjusted the microscope to get a better look for himself.
"No, but... It's green. That's all I have so far." Sara leaned over the closest bench and swatted at her eyes with her forearm, avoiding her gloved hands. "God, I've been staring at it so long it's making my eyes water."
"So what can I help you gentlemen with otherwise?" Mr. Melville trotted out of the back of the house, having slipped a well worn Harvard shirt on and holding a baby monitor.
"The nature of the murder down the street was very unique. We were hoping that maybe you could tell us if you saw or heard anything out of the ordinary in the last week or so?" Grissom asked.
Brass watched the man's eyes light up, his head cocking to the side as Grissom began to talk, and finally fear and adrenaline coursing though him. Brass would have said that the man was a CSI, just by the way he stood at attention, the way his eyes lit up at the mention of a mystery, the way he tilted his head and bit at his lip just like Grissom... but the posture of fear threw him off.
"Mr. Melville, is there something you'd like to share?" Brass said, watching as the man quickly withdrew into a shell, hiding away the fear. "You look like something scared you there for a second."
"What...what kind of unique are we talking here?" The man stuttered. All of a sudden he jumped from being suspicious to being suspect number one on both men's lists. The moment was punctuated by a screaming through the baby monitor.
"I'm sorry, we can't divulge information on an ongoing investigation. Have you seen something unusual?" Grissom asked, trying to wrap his mind around the man's suspicious behavior.
"No. No I haven't." He herded them towards the door. "If you'll excuse me I need to see to my son."
"So what we've got at the moment...are two DB's, no motive, no suspect, no real viable evidence. I love a challenge but this is a bit much man." Nick complained good naturedly, sipping his coffee.
"Wrong, we've got two... organic stains." Sara pointed out, realizing just how dismal the case was looking. She knew that cases like this would require everyone to be at their peak, not to mention put in a significant amount of overtime so that the other cases didn't get backlogged. "Guess this means I'm doubling... wait, tripling up tonight." Sara said, no real inflection in her voice.
"Girl, if you work any more overtime, you'll start to travel backwards through space and time." Warrick commented, sipping his own coffee while perusing the newspaper.
"At least I'll be putting my degree to some sort of rational use." She grumbled and pushed herself away from the breakroom table to search through the contents of the cabinets. She foudn nothing to her liking so hopped up on the counter next to the coffee machine and poured herself a cup, not stopping to bother with the milk and sugar.
Catherine whizzed into the room and very nearly flung herself into a chair. "Guys, we have to let Greg go home. He's been here, god, I think he's been here for two days straight." She winced and rubbed her fingers over her eyes, careful not to disrupt the mascara that had been carefully applied.
Seconds later, Grissom entered the room and sat down next to Warrick, leaning over his shoulder. "Fecund."
"What?"
"Six letter word for fertile, fecund." Grissom supplied, informing Warrick of one of his crossword clues. The CSI's face went from angry to impressed to annoyed as he filled in the word with his pencil. Grissom continued to look on.
Catherine interrupted the two men. "Griss, you have to send Greg home. He's been here going on forty-eight hours." She placed her arms decisvely on the table and stared at her supervisor.
"I tried." Grissom shrugged and made like the rest of the group, getting himself a cup of tepid black coffee.
"Excuse me?" The blonde tossed her hair in disbelief, abstaining from joining the group in the coffee drinking. "You tried?"
"That I did, but he refused to go home." He shrugged again, and Catherine was content to drop it, internally impressed with the lab tech's staying power. Sara smiled at the thought of Greg finding out what a real triple shift left like. As she did so, Grissom moved beside her and reached up into the cabinet beside her head. "Where's the sugar?" He inquired, shifting around the inner contents to no avail.
"Oh!" Sara perked up and twisted her back. "It's in this one. Jacqui cleaned up the other day..." She trailed off as she searched through the cabinet in her awkward position. Grissom's eyes, of his own accord, stole a glance at the exposed skin of her back, noting the placement of the freckles and the expanse of delicately smooth skin.
A fleeting image passed through his mind of his hand reaching out to touch her there, to feel the heat of her skin, but it was stilled when he caught a glimpse of black ink. He could only make out a fraction of it, but he was sure... that he had discovered that Sara Sidle had a tattoo.
The revelation came just as she whipped around and nearly knocked him out with the canister of sugar. He held it up as if he were toasting it, and poured some into his mug. "Now-" He took a large gulp relishing in the rush of caffeine through his veins. "Down to business."
