Disclaimer: Like many others, I wish I owned Nick. But then, I'd be behind a long line.
A/N: Thanks for the reviews, everybody. I AM a Snicker, so sorry to non-Snicker fans. No hard feelings, though, right?
I'm proud of myself that I get to work in LVCL, the second best lab in the country. I've worked here for about six years. I feel that this was the place that I've grown up in. Wait, no, that's Texas. I've matured here in Vegas. How twisted is that?
I love working here not because we have one of the most advanced equipment in the nation. The interactions here are just so wonderful. We're like family here.
Grissom, my supervisor, has been like my second father. In fact, I think that my relationship with Grissom is almost like my relationship with my father. Griss taught me a lot, not only in forensics, but working in general. He taught me in a way that no one ever had. The riddles, the quotes, the analogies…
Grissom was someone anyone would look up to. When I got out of college and applied as a CSI, my career oriented goal was to climb to the top. I'm not sure I want to anymore. As of my earlier years working here, my goal changed. I tried to impress Grissom. Maybe let me rub off on him a little. I tried to teach him about applying the use of human element in every case, yet I've never seen him change. But I didn't expect him to.
Over the years, I've made huge mistakes in this job. Mistakes that any man could've avoided. When I lost all hope being in that damned coffin, I apologized to Grissom through the tape recorder. I don't think he heard the tape, because he never spoke of it.
Catherine Willows was the woman who taught me how to think for myself and stand up on my feet. Catherine's been getting the feeling of being old, lately. Especially when we worked that case, she was really bitter. But then again, it's not like it's the first time. I tried to bring her confidence back by telling her how good she looked, and I was really telling the truth, but I polished it a little.
She's been really authoritative, too. I think she's over reacting about her position as boss. But, during good days, she treats us like Grissom does. And that was all we wanted.
How about I tell you a secret? I had this crush on Catherine during my first year. But a certain woman snagged the spotlight and became the apple of my eye. I'll get to her in a while.
Greg Sanders had been my little brother for six years. But he doesn't know I consider him one. He's the guy I kinda shrug off without feeling bad about it. Not in a bad way, you know. I mean, like, I "pretend" to shrug him off, but no. It's really hard to explain. Only me and Greg would understand this camaraderie. Leggo my Greggo.
Greg, behind the music, the loud shirts, and the spiky hair, is a real professional. The music and all just helps him sorta unwind, because if you're a guy in your twenties and you deal with death as a job, you'd be a regular customer of psychologists. I rarely get to see Greg these days, since Ecklie made that shift-change. That's why we started our own little tradition. He, Warrick, and I go bar hopping on our off days. Some days, we just go to the batting cages or play paintball.
As much as many people from the lab would expect me to say that Warrick's been like my brother, I'm not saying it. Let's face it; having a brother in real life is a pain in the ass. I know I hated being the little brother. Anyways, Warrick is my very best friend. In the beginning, we were competition junkies. Then, we started working together. Then, we became best friends. We've butted our heads every now and then, but that's why I love this friendship. We're not perfect.
After my kidnapping, he held my hand and guided me through every step of the way. Heck, I think everybody did. But Warrick told me about his guilt throughout this whole ordeal. He told me that if it would've been him. He would've blown his head off after just a few hours. I've never seen him that way before. In fact, we started going to therapy together. Alas, poor Warrick.
Oh, I've waited for this moment. I can't hold my thoughts much longer. The lovely Sara Sidle. Oh, she's beyond words. To tell you the truth, she's not even the girl of my dreams. The girl of my dreams would have been at least: redhead, a model, and a celebrity. She's neither of those, isn't she? Yet I love her. She's not the girl of my dreams, she's the girl I dream about. Yeah, I don't get it either.
Sara is the most beautiful, intelligent, and strongest woman I've ever known. She's not like anyone I've ever dated. Hence, the "I love her" part. Every girl I've dated either has had at least one cosmetic surgery, too smart, or is a die-hard activist. Sara is the perfect combination of all those.
I've dropped hints about my attraction to her, and they weren't exactly subtle, either. The blatant flirting, the proximity, and the offers. But then again, she's always been a willing participant to all of those. It's like she's toying with me. But I'll accept that as long as I "stay in contact" with her.
Youknow, when I gave her the infamous advice of, "You gotta get out more," I meant with me. I made a bad judgment because I kept her options wide open. She went out with that bastard, Hank. He used her as a side to his other girlfriend (as Cath told me). I wanted to beat the hell out of him for doing that to Sara. But then a realization struck me—I was once him. Note the word "once". I've changed.
I rarely see her, too. Every time I see her down the hall, I hug her and say, "God I miss you." From time to time, though, I think of it as some lame excuse to have physical contact with her. I need my release. Ahem.
Moving on now, to the non-CSIs.
Captain Jim Brass was the coolest guy I've ever met. And the wittiest. Man, the guy is so real, that it couldn't be true. Brass and I share vague, obscure jokes every once in a while. He once joked that he keeps a tape recorder by his bed so he could remember his "deep thoughts". Up until now, I wonder if he really does. He knows I'm still wondering about that, and he's still baiting me. He's having way too much fun with that.
Doc Robbins and I have been at each other for a couple of times now, but it quickly fades away. The biggest episode we had was with the exhumation of the bathtub woman (which brings back fond memories of my love, Sara). Right before the autopsy, he apologized to me. He said that it has been a bad day because his wife had an episode the night before and he had to sleep on the couch. See, this is why I'm not married yet.
Doc often shares a joke with me, and the Jacques Cousteau joke was the best one by far. Honestly, it took me a couple of days to get it. I laughed my ass off.
David Phillips is a great guy, despite being the butt of my jokes. He's a real sport though, and that's fantastic. I could've sworn I saw him performing my autopsy, along with my dad and Doc. Man, I'm messed up.
Staying on topic of "messed up" is Hodges. I don't know why, but I've hated him ever since he stepped in that chem lab. He's a suck-up to Griss and everybody knows it.
Lately, though, I learned that he's not so bad. The guy saved me… and everybody who was near that coffin. I think I have a newfound respect for him. I mean, despite our hatred of each other, he saved me. He could've easily not tell us about the bombs and left me for dead, but he didn't. Bless his heart. You know what that means in Texas…
My fellow Texan, Bobby Dawson, is the ballistics tech. He reminds me of one of my frat brothers, but then every time I hear a Texan accent in any other place than Texas, they remind me of my frat brothers. Bobby and I actually met way before CSI. See, it turns out he was the guy who I never wanted my older sister to go to the prom with. We always have laughs about that. No hard feelings. Did you know he had a mullet back then? You never heard it from me, though. The guy has a room full of guns.
Jacqui Franco is the most relaxed woman I've ever met. She just goes about her job as if it was a walk in the park. Jacqui is fun, too. Every time we have a slow day, she'd take out her hidden stash of poker chips and cards. We'd play Texas Hold 'Em every chance we get. I never get to stay out of the topic of Texas, do I?
Archie Johnson, the computer tech, is the guy that I don't have to look professional to. He's like just another guy that I met without really getting to know them. He'd been looking to me when it came with his losing streak with the ladies, but I admitted that I've been there, too. The kid almost popped his eyes out. I also tease him mercilessly about shopping with his girlfriend. He wanted to chase Sara down the hall because she blabbed to me.
This lab has impacted me so much. Everybody here has been so nice to me from the get go. After I was kidnapped, that care increased about tenfold. I was almost thankful that it happed to me.
A/N: PLEASE RR! I live on reviews….