Grissom had been acting strangely all day. Even a suspect in a robbery investigation asked him if he was feeling well, though, it was meant as an insult rather than a comment of concern.

He himself didn't know what was wrong. He had a fever, was sweating and, despite feeling dehydrated, was constantly using the bathroom. People kept telling him he needed to go home even though they knew he wouldn't.

Something was wrong, he knew it as well as anyone, but he refused to let that get in is way of going about cases normally, aside from his frequent bathroom breaks. He didn't appreciate people constantly telling him to go home either. He nearly went off on a secretary before realizing that she just wanted to tell him he had a message.

"It was very strange" she said when asked what the message was.

"Well what was it?" Grissom wanted to know, he was rather irritable at the moment.

"The only the message said was, blister beetle, I suppose it will mean more to yo…" she started but she stopped mid sentence at the look on his face. "Is there something wrong?" she inquired.

He turned around and immediately yelled to Warrick, the first person he saw.

"Warrick! I need you to take me to the hospital… NOW!"

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Fifteen minutes later, they were at Desert Palms Hospital and Grissom was being treated with Cantharidin poisoning.

Why hadn't the thought occurred to me before, Grissom wondered. He knew the symptoms of Cantharidin poisoning, though it was mainly found in livestock. You don't normally go around eating blister beetles, he reminded himself.

That was another question. How had he ingested the poison? He hadn't eaten any hay that he could think of, nor had he been around a farm in the last 24 hours.

"How're you doing?" Warrick had just entered his room. "Don't sit up, just because the doctor said you were going to be fine doesn't mean that you don't need rest".

"I'm doing as fine as I could possibly be," retorted Grissom. "When are they going to let me out of here?"

"It all depends on how you system reacts to the antidote" replied Warrick. "In the meantime I've alerted the rest of the team of you condition. Do you have any idea how you got this Cantharidin stuff anyways?"

Grissom said nothing. The thought had just occurred to him that if he had ingested the poison he might have done so at work, and that put every one else in the lab at risk. Son of a bitch, he thought, what if I'm not the only one on the team whose been exposed to the Cantharidin poison? The whole lab is in danger!

"Grissom?"

"Warrick, I need you to call the lab, get them to test every one for signs of Cantharidin poisoning."

"Alright boss."

"And make sure that they send anyone with signs of fever, sweating, increased heart and respiration rates, dehydration, sweating and diarrhea."

"No problem." And with that Warrick set off to call the lab, leaving Grissom to ponder how the poison had gotten into his food.

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Within ten minutes, every body in the lab had been examined and two members had been sent to the hospital immediately. One had just trace amounts in their system and the other was in intensive care.

When the news reached Grissom as to whom the other people poisoned were he was in shock. It was the same two people he had eaten takeout with at the end of last shift: Greg Sanders and the lovely Sara Sidle.