Chisato wiped the tears from her cheeks and strode back into the lab, leaving Grissom alone in the hall. He watched through the transparent glass walls, watched her slowly approach the corpse. She ran her hand an few inches above the length of the body, peered at the cuts on the man's face, and the bruises on his arms and chest. Grissom marvelled at how she looked with wide eyes at the body, even though it terrified her.
Chisato nodded to herself, and closed the storage locker. She hung up her lab coat and faced Grissom outside.
"Well?" He said, smiling gently.
She sighed. "The bruising on his arms and chest suggest blows, probably from a punch." She clenched her own fist and punched at the air, as if to demonstrate. Grissom smiled inwardly at how scrappy she looked.
"And the cuts on his face?" Grissom asked, hoping she, with no bias towards any of the suspects, would have an idea what could have caused them.
"I was just getting to those," she grinned shyly, "I'm thinking due to the fact that the centre cut starts approximately a centimetre above the others, and stops approximately a centimetre short, the cuts were caused by fingernails." She raised her hand and clawed her fingers.
"No fingernails were found on any of the suspects and no traces of foreign DNA were found within the cuts," Grissom explained, rather wearily.
"Could they have been acrylic nails? Sharpened ones maybe?" Chisato asked innocently.
Grissom stopped formulating a chastising response and peered at Chisato's hand, still poised as a claw. "I need to get back to that crime scene." He grabbed his cellphone from his pocket and began dialling Catherine's number. As if forgetting Chisato was there, he suddenly put his hand over the mouthpiece and whispered, "Go to the lab, Greg will give you some work to do there."
Chisato nodded, visibly downcast. She turned to leave, when she heard, behind her, "Doctor, you may have just broken open this case." Grissom flashed her a rare, open-mouthed smile. She walked quickly round the corner towards the lab, blushing all the way.
A blond, spiky head bobbing to blaring music met Chisato upon entering the lab.
"Excuse me!" She yelled over the hubbub. "I'm looking for a Greg. Could you help me?"
Greg switched off his stereo and turned around. "I'm…" but who he was Chisato would have to wait for, as Greg took in an eyeful of the new CSI. He was instantly attracted to her thick dark hair, although he would later say it was her rich accent.
"Greg Saunders, lab technician and Best Smile winner, three years running," he quipped, upon finding his voice. Chisato laughed and extended her hand.
"Chisato Dominico, I'm the new CSI. Grissom sent me here, saying you could give me some work to do."
Greg shook his head. "He's giving you an informal break or me a special treat. There's nothing for me to do at present, I've processed all of Ecklie's evidence, and Grissom hasn't given me any for the Johnson case. Sorry."
"That's alright," she said, sitting precariously on a stool. "Have you worked here long?"
"About four years, give or take a few months."
"I see," she seemed at a loss for what to say, so she began tinkering with the Erlenmeyer flask behind her, clinking it gently against a retort stand.
"So…" Greg said, and she looked up at him. "Where'd you get that accent?"
"You're blunt," she remarked, and he laughed. "Japanese mother, Italian father."
"Ah," he nodded knowledgably, his signature smirk on his face, "Were you born in America, then?"
"No, Milano," she began, and then corrected herself with, "Milan, sorry. Italy," She added as an afterthought, due to the blank stare Greg was giving her. He was distracted by her spry fingers, how she used them to illustrate her point. She followed his line of sight to her revolving right hand, and promptly sat on it.
Chisato smiled shamefacedly at Greg. "Sorry," she explained, sitting on her other hand before it too started wiggling about, "My mother used to tell me if I kept using my hands to explain things, she'd cut them off. I get it from my father."
Greg shrugged. "Doesn't bother me. It's like a book with pictures." She laughed again.
They talked amicably for an hour or so, recounting various points of their respective pasts. Suddenly, Grissom burst into the lab, Catherine in tow.
"Fingernails," Grissom blurted, tossing ten yellow envelopes onto the counter. "You two process these for any DNA. Greg, show Chisato how it's done." He left as quickly as he came, but Catherine lingered.
"So you're the case-breaker, huh?" Chisato blushed. "Catherine Willows. I look forward to working with you."
"Me also," Chisato stood, bowing.
"Don't mind Grissom," Catherine jerked her head in the direction Grissom had left in, "He's got nothing but work on the brain. If we close this case, maybe he'll human up a little and show some manners." Chisato bit her lip, years of Japanese courtesy had taught her not to speak ill of her boss, nor acknowledge it. However, Catherine grinned. "See you later, newbie."
Chisato returned to the worktable, where Greg showed her how to take samples from each of the ten acrylic fingernails. They were sharpened into wicked looking points, and they found blood trace on the index, middle, and ring fingernails of the right hand. As an afterthought, Greg scraped the inside curve of the nail, and thermocycled whatever DNA could be found there. Another hour later, and Chisato and Greg made their way to one of the workrooms, two warm DNA result sheets clasped in Greg's hands.
"Well?"Grissom asked, standing and reaching out his hand for the sheets of paper in Greg's hands. Catherine smiled at Chisato, but the new CSI was sizing up the other three people seated at the table, Nick Stokes, Sara Sidle, and Warrick Brown.
"The blood found on the fingernails belongs to the vic," Greg began, "And, lucky us, we also found a bit of cuticle on one of the fingernails. CODUS came up blank, but the DNA is x,x – female."
Grissom processed the information as he usually did, with one finger up in the air and his mouth gaping open. He looked at Chisato, smiling like a kid on Christmas morning. "You're my new favourite," he said happily, tapping her on the nose. "I'm going to get a warrant, you talk over the case with the others." He left the room, followed by Greg. Chisato stood awkwardly before the others, grinding her toe into the floor.
"And maybe while we're at it, we can get better acquainted. I'm Nick Stokes," Nick stood up, shaking Chisato's hand. "That's Warrick Brown and Sara Sidle. I heard you've already met Catherine." Warrick gave Chisato a friendly wave, but Sara barely acknowledged her with a curt nod. Although Chisato couldn't have known it, Sara was reeling about Grissom's 'favourite' comment. "You can sit down, if you like," Nick added kindly, and Chisato foolishly took a seat.
"You're a shy thing, aren't you?" Warrick teased, flipping open the case file, glad he'd finally have something to add to it. The veteran CSIs filled Chisato in on the case, about the initial crime scene, the suspects, and the evidence they'd collected thus far.
"So now I'm thinking our porn star, McCloud, has something to do with this," Nick said, summing up their discussion. "She seems like the clawing type."
"Ooh, kinky," Catherine quipped, and Nick shook his head, grinning embarrassedly. Chisato was drinking in how easily they talked and joked with each other, wondering if she'd ever fit in with this diverse group of people.
Grissom came in, a frown on his face. "Brass won't let me go for a warrant," he explained, taking a seat and slouching within it. "He says we can't target our only female suspect for a DNA sample. We're going to have to dump this case."
The muttered curses and sighs from the rest of the CSIs invoked pity in Chisato. She wondered how many hours they'd spent, processing every square inch of crime scene… She ran over the case in her head… thinking of something… anything…
"Wait!" She cried, and Catherine jumped out of her seat. "The victims' cuts… they were infected, right?"
"Yes," Grissom began, unsure of where she was going.
"In the Doctor's report (Chisato couldn't remember Doc Robbins' name), it said that the infection was a medical anomaly, when Gonorrhoea is transmitted through the blood vessels instead of seminal or vaginal fluid."
"If Ms. McCloud is registered to have Gonorrhoea on the pornography actor's database…" Nick began excitedly.
"…then Ms. McCloud may have been the cause of the scratches on our vic's face." Sara summed up, looking at each of the CSIs in turn.
Grissom tented his fingers together. "We're getting that warrant," he said confidentally. He raised his index finger and pointed it at Chisato, "And you're coming with me."