Disclaimer: If I owned or wrote for CSI, I seriously doubt I'd be writing fanfiction.
A/N: Generally, I write HP stuff. Grissom fascinates me, though. I think the nerd in me identifies with that character.
He had a mind like a steel-trap, which was an established fact among those that he worked with.
He was also, according to most, a bit socially inept, seemingly uncaring about anything personal, and quiet.
If only they knew.
Still waters run deep.
In his mind, he knew the right things to say. The right things to do. He could spin out possible scenarios within seconds. In his mind, he was in control. Things went exactly as they were supposed to.
So, as to why he always fumbled when it came to saying comforting words, or acting on personal signals that were sent out towards him, he couldn't explain. Perhaps it was the knowledge that one couldn't really control what another person would say or do. He knew some of them wanted so much from him, and he knew that he couldn't give it. He was hampered by his greatest asset, his mind.
Forensics fascinated him, as did insects and arthropods. The challenge of figuring out the puzzles, of being smarter than the killers…it appealed to him. The ultimate challenge. Figuring out attraction, social interaction – that he had trouble with. He knew there was little chance that it would go as he could see it going, in his mind, and part of him wanted to preserve those scenarios. Preserve the dreams, as one might say.
So, he fumbled, especially if taken by surprise. He fumbled, and he fell back on The Rules, Etiquette, and spouting facts like an adolescent trying to impress his best girl.
In his mind though…
Well, that's where things are what they should be.