Hehehe… I was wondering when the Mary-Sue accusation was going to crop up. Thank you, Kate K, for having the decency to log in, and for taking the time to write out your critique:hugs:
May I, however, have the opportunity to defend my character? A Mary-Sue, by the definition I understand (the one that you, coincidentally, gave), is a character who is pretty, perfect, gets along with everyone, is nice to everyone, is loved by everyone and is better than everyone.
Well… For one, Dr. James has not had the chance to show all sides of herself. Yes, she seems bossy. Yes, she seems a Know-It-All. That's because she IS. She's fifteen and working at the Number 2 Crime Lab in the country, of course she's going to be a bit arrogant and conceited. Quite honestly, what do you expect? If the premise of this story is going to work, the readers are going to have to make allowances for my own personal creative liberty. It's, as you pointed out, FAN fiction. Yes, the focus is supposed to be the "regular" characters (What's with putting 'regular' in quotes, anyway? They are the regular characters.), but the other point is to develop your own story using the characters and setting, and if that means making new characters, well, it's my own prerogative. As for dominating the scene, she's the main conflict in this story, as opposed to the show's major conflict of the crimes, however, naturally the 'regular' character's problems will be paralleled to the conflict. Therefore, as the conflict, of course Dr. James will be talked about in most scenes.
"She insists on driving"? No one asked her to accompany them in their own cars, so of course she's going to drive her own(I did mention that she got her license at 14, implicitly) And as far as knowing her way around Las Vegas… I've heard that GPS systems are quite handy. Part of reading is being able to have the imagination to fill in the blanks. You see Grissom at a scene, then you see him at the lab. 'Oh, did he teleport? No, he must have driven there! Wow! I used logical reasoning!' See? Apply that to Dr. James, here: 'Wow, she knows the way! She must be psychic! No, wait… I bet she has a navigation system!'
Another point refers back to the "Mary Sue" herself. Where do I say she's incredibly beautiful? Greg's thought that she should be in a magazine? Methinks someone reads too much into that comment. It was referring to the fact that she was coordinated perfectly. Unless I'm mistaken (and I don't think I am), I haven't really set forth a good description of Dr. James, have I? She wore a crimson and beige suit with ruby accessories on Saturday, and today she is wearing slacks and a blouse. I haven't even mentioned what color Dr. James's hair is, now, have I?
Whether you find it believable or not, it is my story, and I appreciate you taking the time to read and critique it nonetheless. If it really is as bad of a Mary-Sue as you say, it must have taken a lot of guts to stomach it, and for that I thank you.
((although, my friend Korimi-chan says: "Yea…you idiot… Hey, make sure you tell her that anything I say shouldn't and wont be held against you in a court of law but can and should be held against me instead lol" – directly quoted. Her ff.n penname is 'padfootlet', if you should take her up on that offer.))
Thanks for sticking with me, those of you who have! I appreciate it more than you'll ever know. And sorry for the lengthy authors note. I wasn't aware that I would be having to make my case again. Gomen nasi, faithful reviewers!
"How is the hit and run going?" Grissom asked. Lillian was sitting at the table in the break room, flipping through pictures, double-checking her notes and examining the autopsy report.
"Well enough. Cause of death was, naturally, head trauma and shock. Probably killed the second he hit the pavement. Headlight pieces confirm eyewitness report. 1989 Chevy Corvette. Paint chip collected from the victim's belt buckle indicates that it was red. APB put out for red corvette, possibly dented front end, an officer called one in parked in a bar lot, it's being towed as we speak." Lillian rattled off. At her hip, her pager buzzed. She stood up, gathering her things. "And that will be the garage, telling me that it's in. Good day."
She left quickly.
Grissom helped himself to a cup of coffee, leafing through their recent homicide papers.
"Hey, Gris, Brass just called. They've got Alice Mason's brother in for questioning. He was called to identify his sister and Doc Robbins noticed blood on his shirt." Sara poked her head in.
"I'll be there in five minutes." Grissom said, going back to his office. Sara nodded and went back towards the interrogation rooms on the other end of the building.
--
"Joseph Mason." Brass said, dropping a folder on the table. "Previous for assault. How would you happen to have blood on your shirt the night of your sister's murder?"
"You forgot to mention Margaret and Daniel." Joseph said calmly. "They're dead, too."
"Yes, they are." Brass raised an eyebrow. "How would you know?"
"Margaret was my girlfriend, I saw her in the autopsy place." He said coolly. "And if Margaret and Alice are dead, either that bastard Daniel is, too, or he's the killer. He hasn't got the balls to kill a man, so I assume he's dead."
"Awfully simple logic."
"Whatever. Can I go?"
"Not until we clear you. You have blood on you shirt, in case you didn't notice."
"Hey, I got into a bar fight."
"Of course. We'll confirm that. Give me your shirt."
"Give me a court order."
"That can be arranged." Brass said, standing up.
--
"Hey, Lillian. Are you going to catch breakfast with us this morning?" Warrick asked casually, supervising Lillian's processing of the candy-apple-red Corvette at Grissom's request.
"No."
"Why not? We usually get together."
"I don't." Lillian said shortly. She rolled out from under the bumper, tweezers holding up a small bit of what appeared to be jean fabric. She tucked it in an envelope. She then collected her swabs of blood from the spoiler, cotton fibers from the windshield wipers, and photographs and left the garage, Warrick following, somewhat bewildered.
--
"I'm being nice, not critical or skeptical, I trust that she knows what she's doing, and she blows me off!"
"I've wondered on that myself…"
Catherine and Warrick were sitting in the break room, looking over some phone records for both the Sweetney household and the Mason households.
"I can't find anything that she could be holding against you." Catherine sighed, highlighting another instance of the Mason's number on the Sweetney's list.
"Gambling?"
"How would she know, she just started working tonight."
"It's the only thing I can think of. It's not like it's a massively hidden secret, maybe she researched her co-workers before she came."
"Possible."
"She acts like she owns the lab. Typical teenaged brat." Sara said, entering the conversation on the way to the coffee pot. "Have you seen her in there?"
"No, I haven't." Catherine said, looking up. "Why?"
"Well, have you noticed anything different?"
"How would I, if I haven't been at the lab?"
"It may be hard, but be really quiet for a moment." Sara said wryly. Catherine raised an eyebrow and exchanged a glance with Warrick. "What don't you hear?"
Recognition dawned on both faces.
"Greg's music is missing." Warrick said. Sara nodded a confirmation.
"You should have seen her when she visited on Saturday. She picked a pencil up from UNDER the desk and told Greg that it was a safety hazard. She's got everything in there labeled, coded, sorted, straightened up and silent." Sara said. "It's almost scary, Greg is sitting quietly as his desk, working diligently. Or pretending to, at least."
"Wow. And she's only 15." Catherine shook her head. "Warrick, I'll run these up to Brass, he's still got the victim's brother in custody, waiting for the blood analysis on the shirt."
"Alright."
"Catch you later." She said, leaving. There was silence for a few moments as Sara flipped through the photographs from the scene and Warrick sat back, thinking.
"What is it?"
"What is what?"
"Lillian can't stand me. You saw her at the beginning of shift. Catherine's noticed. Why does she seem to dislike me?"
"Maybe she's afraid of older men? Then again, it could be like I said earlier, she's just a know-it-all brat."
"After the bold handshake she gave Nick, I don't think it's the first."
Sara looked him up and down. "You're the same as any of us, I don't know what it is. Gambling history? Or (again) she just thinks she's above associating with any of us. She hasn't exactly been a basket of roses to me, either."
Warrick sighed heavily, shaking his head. "I'll figure it out. In the meantime, we are on a case."
--
"Detective?" Lillian approached Brass. "I have here the evidence to warrant the arrest of Aaron Simon in the hit and run case. The Victim's clothing fibers on his car, dent, paint on the victims belt buckle matches the paint from the car exactly, headlights found at the scene."
"That would give us manslaughter." Brass said. "Anything to indicate that this was any more?"
"Nothing except the tire tracks and eyewitness account." Lillian sighed. "I've been over it many times, I can't find the physical evidence to support anything else."
"It's alright, Lillian." Brass said, taking the folder. "It's up to the DA now. Good work for your first case."
Lillian nodded mutely. She took a deep breath. "Thank you." She said. She bowed slightly and walked away, eyes trained on the floor.
--
"Yes, I'm finished with my case… hit and run… yes, I'm fine… No, I won't quit… Honestly, it was a dead body. You expect me to freak out about it? I never knew the person… Of course, I apologize…" Lillian sighed into the phone. She stood out on the sidewalk in front of the Lab, talking into her small silver phone. "My what? My Co-workers? Well, there's Miss Sidle, Mr. Sanders, Mr. Stokes, Mrs. Willows, Mr. Grissom, Mr. Brown… Yes, of course they're nice… …I see… Well, whatever the case, I should get back inside in case they need me. I'll be home around seven, maybe eight… Well, that's dependant on whether I go out to breakfast or not… No, waffles will not entice me home faster. Goodnight, mother."
Lillian sighed deeply and calmly. She turned and went back into the building. She went to the lab, deciding that there was nothing better to calm the nerves that concentrating on some analysis or another.
"There you are. Would you mind running a comparison on these?" Greg held up two swabs as she came in. Lillian almost sighed with relief as she began processing them.
--