Chapter 2 – Grissom Muses.

Note: This is just filler as I try to prepare some kind of plot. Bear with me, I'm new at this.

Disclaimer: I don't think anyone would believe me if I said I did own CSI, so I don't know why I'm writing this. Anyway, I don't own CSI and I don't own the characters. Happy?

Gil sat in Christie's coffee house with a bowed head and a sombre expression. This was not unusual for Dr. Grissom, for whom sombre expressions were almost an alternative way of saying 'Good morning'. In this case, however, there was no telltale twinkle of hidden amusement in his eyes as he tried not to laugh at Nick and Warrick's childlike bickering and macho one-upping, or small gleam of pride hiding behind his shades as Sara or Greg made an impressive connection between the bits and pieces of evidence they had that would suddenly make sense of it all.

No, this time there was sadness in his face. Sadness, and a dull species of fury, possibly even hate. It was, quite possibly, the only time Gilbert Grissom had ever actually felt genuine hatred of another person (at least one who wasn't a wife-beater, or a child-molester, or a drug-dealer). The veteran criminalist had always prided himself on being as patient and philanthropic as possible when it came to human beings, but this latest move by Ecklie jeopardised his team's efficiency, and Catherine's career.

Oh, she had her promotion, all right, Gil thought bitterly. For all the joy she'll find in it now...

These were reasons enough for Grissom's ire toward the insufferable Ecklie, but as much as he didn't want to admit it, there was another, more selfish reason. You see, Grissom had always enjoyed working with his fellow grave-shift CSI's, ever since each one had joined his team. In the last few years, he had grown accustomed to how his team handled themselves, which was to say very well at the least.

With a slightly wistful smile, Gil recalled his earlier words to Nick and Warrick, his now former co-workers: "If a team gets used to doing things a certain way just because that's the way they've always done them, then they start to lose their effectiveness." Nick had instantly rejected the idea, asking if Gil really believed that.

Grissom had gently reassured him that he didn't, but in the depths of his heart, he wondered...

It had taken him a long time to adjust to the idea of Greg Sanders becoming a CSI, as well as the fact that the DNA lab would be run by Mia Dickenson instead. He hadn't reacted very well to the arrival from Los Angeles of David Hodges either, but then, he guessed, that made him and the rest of the crime lab. Still, he couldn't help but wonder if he had become slightly set in his ways as far as his work was concerned.

With a mild shiver, he realised that he had always been set in his ways, and that it wasn't just at his job. All his life he had done things in a certain way, and had never enjoyed the prospect of changing and adapting. Again, he recalled the words of wisdom he had passed on not two minutes earlier to his departing ex-colleagues, quoting Herodotus in a last attempt to reassure them: "It is in change that we find purpose."

That was all very well, but it didn't mean you had to like it. And now Conrad Ecklie, whom he had once called a fellow scientist (back before they found out they didn't like each other), had forced change on them, on him. And he was afraid. He didn't want any more changes in the crime lab, in his team, in his routine, his tradition, his...his life...

It was then that Gil reached the inevitable conclusion that this train of thought was leading to. A few seconds ago he had realised that his work had become predictable, and that his life had also become predictable. Now he knew that his work and his life were one and the same. Outside his job, he barely existed.

With he sigh, he stood up to leave, but his mind wasn't going to let him go without one last stab at him. His memory jolted to life again, recalling the Desert relay death, when a cop had been poisoned by some jerk, just because he'd taken his place in the relay. Grissom had told him "Sooner or later everyone gets replaced." The killer had bitterly responded "Talk to me when it happens to you."

For the first time ever, Grissom seriously considered that. What would happen to him when he retired? Worse, what would happen if Ecklie somehow got his wish, and was able to fire Grissom?

Now Gil was really scared...