The three doctors (Robbins, Grissom, and Chisato) huddled over the mutilated corpse of Yoshitoki Mitsuda.
"Well," Doc Robbins said plainly, "Cause of death is pretty obvious. Deep laceration to the neck – he bled out."
Chisato made a face and nodded. "The victim was found with his pants off – any signs of sexual activity?"
"We found traces of vaginal fluid – I passed that on to Greg. Another substance was found, it's being processed by Hodges."
"Anything else?" Grissom asked. He and Chisato avoided speaking directly to each other, although this was lost on the Doc (who spent most of his time with the incommunicado).
"Nothing too spectacular. He was in fairly good health, wore glasses for nearsightedness – nothing big – and his tox screen came up blank." He shrugged.
"Thanks, Doc," Grissom said half-heartedly.
"Good luck," he replied, waving them out of the morgue. Grissom and Chisato hung up their lab coats and stepped into the hallway. They stood facing each other, although Chisato seemed enraptured with Doc Robbins' cleanup and Grissom flipped through his clipboard fervently.
"I'm going to go meet Hodges," she said, pointing towards the trace lab. She turned on her heel and left without another word.
Chisato had heard about Hodges from Greg. She looked forward to pushing as many of his buttons as she could.
"Hi," she chimed, climbing on a stool right next to trace tech, peering over his shoulder.
Hodges huffed an angry "hello" and said nothing more, his face never leaving the microscope's eyepiece.
"I'm here for the substance," she remarked in a lusty voice. She considered adding "lover" and watching him twitch, but realized, as Greg had suggested, that Hodges indeed had no sense of humour whatsoever.
"Take a look," he ushered her forward, and she peered into the eyepiece. Clear crystals met her eyes.
Hodges was staring in a snotty, expectant sort of way, so she ventured a guess. "Clear, crystalline forms… salt maybe? Sugar?"
"You're close," he sniffed, crossing his arms. "Glaze, melted and then crystallized."
"What kind of glaze… ceramic glaze?" Chisato narrowed her eyes at trace tech, making them illuminate.
"No," Hodges rolled his own eyes, as if nothing could be more obvious, "Icing glaze. Like on a donut." Chisato's head shot up at the mention of the mention of the word, nearly clocking Hodges in the nose.
"And it was…" she trailed off.
"On his penis, yes."
Chisato scowled. "Why?"
Hodges gathered up his things. Chisato distinctly heard him mutter, "That's your job," as he walked away. Chisato rushed for DNA lab.
Grissom and Warrick flanked Greg's shoulders, reading from the DNA printout.
"This doesn't match your entertainer, Miss Tendo, guys – your vic was… ahem… familiar with someone else," Greg said, as Chisato burst through the door.
"There's donut glaze on his penis," she gasped, grabbing Warrick's shoulder with one hand and her knee with the other. "I mean, there was. Before!" She paused to smile at the three of them, panting.
"Slow down, kiddo," Warrick gently removed her hand from his shoulder and pushed her down on a stool next to Greg. "You're saying the flying donut was once on Mr. Mitsuda's…"
"Johnson?" Greg offered.
"The unidentified substance is glaze," Chisato confirmed.
"Sex play, maybe?" Grissom offered.
"Whoever's DNA was found with this glaze was extremely close to our vic," Warrick remarked.
"But we have no other leads," Chisato sighed, pouting.
"So you think, mon Cherie," Greg purred, waving a CODUS readout, "Meet Gina Simmonds, busted four years ago for possession."
"Why didn't you say this before?" Grissom questioned, his eyebrows knit together.
"Girl Interrupted," Greg pointed to Chisato, grinning. Grissom let out a loud huff, snatched the readout from Greg's hands, and strode from the room.
"Sheesh, who pissed in his cornflakes this morning?" Greg muttered, hunting for a laugh out of Chisato. Instead, she cast her eyes to the floor, fumbling with the hem of her shirtdress. Things between her and Grissom had started so well, and now she'd felt like she'd messed everything up. She knew the truth about herself had to come out sometime – but she had wanted to put it off.
'Until Armageddon, right?' Chisato thought angrily. 'Fucking judgement day?' Her thoughts were a mixture of Italian, Japanese, and German, her favourite "angry" language.
"Hey," Warrick tapped Chisato's shoulder, startling her out of her trance. "Aren't you due for a break?"
She shook her head. "I'll stay," she forced a smile. "This is my first real case. I'm not going anywhere."
"At least sit in the breakroom," he replied coyly, "Last thing we need around here is a Grissom junior." Chisato laughed, and made her way towards the door, nearly crashing into Catherine.
"Whoa, Chis," Catherine said, finding the tone she often used with her daughter, Lindsay. She rearranged the things in her arms (including her forensics kit, vest, and coffee mug) to keep them from crashing to the floor.
"Sorry, Catherine, I've got to watch where I'm going," Chisato reached out and took some of the things Catherine was carrying, setting them on the ground. "I was distracted by the two extremely handsome gentlemen at my six o' clock."
Catherine looked directly at Greg and Warrick and smiled her infamous half-smile. "If you see them again, give me a yell."
Chisato grinned, while Greg and Warrick let out cries of mock-protest. "I'm heading down to the breakroom, see you later."
"I just put some donuts in there, if you're interested," Catherine offered, setting her things down on the table.
Chisato made a face. "God, no," she insinuated, and Greg and Warrick laughed.