Hey all, I'm glad to say Exam week is over WHOO! And a happy Chinese New Years to everyone woot!
Thankz for ya review:
icklebitodd: Wow, you read this all in one sitting? I appraise your abilities to sit still. And you really think I have a good story here? Aw, thank you...personally I think it still needs a little bit of work though. And thank you, I'd hug you but I'm kinda anti social.
Plz review and enjoy.
Secret Whispers: Chapter Twenty Two In The Past
Grissom was all packed, he had one suitcase full of clothes, a toothbrush, and other such toiletries. He made certain he had fed his prize winning cockroaches plenty of food, so he hopefully wouldn't find them dead by the time he came back. He checked his fridge and cleaned out whatever was in it that had already gone rotten, he glanced at them wistfully before throwing them out. They would've made an excellent experiment for the rate at which fungi grew. Grissom lugged his suitcase to the door and took one last sweeping glance at his neat and contrite town house. He took in the whiteness of the walls and the stacked magazines on the coffee table, the couch and the shelf of books holding the world's most famous authors and great encyclopedias of bugs and other such things. It hadn't changed much from the time he had bought it and now, except maybe the things it had held previously compared to now. He pursed his lips and closed the wooden door, making sure he had locked it behind him.
He hailed a taxi and had the man take him to the airport. There he would be meeting, Marcell and O'Brian, and fly in the FBI's private jet to meet this mysterious Agent Chloe Yan who worked for the CSIS. When he got to the airport he took in the sounds, sights, and rumbles. Everytime he was here, he was surprised that the force of the planes taking off wouldn't cause a gigantic earthquake and make the airport fall upon their heads. Just another beautiful thing about technology and human thinking. He turned and thanked the cabbie and lifted his suitcase once again before heading towards the place where the FBI agents had said they would be. When he got there he found himself looking at Catherine with her hands on her hips, yelling intelligible words at O'Brian. Okay granted that Grissom was still about 50 feet or so away from them, but he was sure it was intelligible. Grissom tried out his theory and he was right, the nearer he got the more screaming and yelling he heard but not defined words.
Suddenly a slim and fine boned hand gripped his arm, Grissom turned and nearly overbalanced sending both him, the person, and his luggage everywhere. But he caught himself just in time, but he did find himself face to face with sparkling whiskey colored eyes. "Leave them." Marcell whispered at him, "I'm quite enjoying the show."
Grissom made a noise which could've passed for a snort or a strangled chuckle, "What did he do?"
"Oh you know him. Made some rather stupid remark against a woman's sexuality. Boy that Catherine has one hell of a temper." she said admiring the way Catherine kept on throwing up her arms in frustration.
"You can say that again." Grissom said.
"It'll be a waste of time." she said matter of factly, "Anyways we should be meeting Jackie on the jet right now. Let's go break them up."
"Ladies first." Grissom said.
"Coward." she said over her shoulder and flipped her hair.
A faint scent of lilacs trailed in her wake, she walked right up to the shouting couple and pushed them apart, "Okay break it up, break it up! We're gonna be late."
They both stepped back and pinned each other with steely eyed glares, their eyes were a light with fiery hatred and if looks could kill, they'd both be nothing more then ash in the wind. They stocked off towards the sleek airplane and got in one at a time like good little children, Grissom lifted a brow at Marcell who looked positively like a madly grinning chesire cat. This was going to be one hell of a ride with the side dish of extreme tension. And the one flight attendant knew it, she cleared off immediately after she brought them their drinks. Grissom sighed and opened a book he had grabbed from Greg's bedside table at the hospital and Grissom had to admit, Greg did have a superior taste in good books.
Eragon, a seemingly childish book to read right now, but it was well written and had a fairly good plot line. Grissom had just got to the part where Brom died when he heard an angry growl. At first he thought it was his stomach, he hadn't eaten since breakfast, but then it came again. This time he was pretty sure it wasn't him, he looked around and found himself staring into a pair of eyes the second time this morning. But this time they were a bright blue, which reflected the light making it even lighter, Grissom was distinctively aware of a smell. It was slightly musky and could only be described as a doggy smell.
Grissom's eyes widened as he realized, who exactly this dog was. Before another thought passed his mind, the dog gave a happy bark and leapt on to his lap and barked merrily before licking Grissom's nose. "Well" Grissom said wrapping an arm around the dog's tiny frame and lifting it onto the arm of his chair, "What are you doing here?"
This effectively stopped Catherine and O'Brian glowering at each other for the moment, O'Brian looked outraged, "What is that mutt doing here?"
O'Brian was apparently not a dog lover either. Grissom checked the dog tags to be sure if this really was Trina and then stared at her again. Her beautiful black and white fur which had once been shiny and glossy was now dull and matted with blood and mud. She carried a few scars just above her wet and cold nose, but she seemed to be the same dog. Grissom and probably everyone in the lab had now totally forgotten that Ryan had had a dog and Grissom couldn't help but feel a little dart of guilt going straight for his heart. "Let's get you cleaned up, shall we? And maybe something to eat."
Trina agreed with that arrangement and showed her appreciation but barking merrily and chasing her tail on the beige colored floor. Grissom marked his place in the book and grabbed Trina's little body, he could literally feel her ribcage and that worried him. When had been her last meal? Days? Weeks? With all the panic going around lately everyone had forgotten the little things, like Trina.
In the men's bathroom, Grissom tried to be as gentle as he could be, but was rewarded for his efforts by a sharp nip on the thumb. He was glad that her teeth was too small to do any real harm, he wouldn't want to be catching any kind of disease on board without a doctor at hand. Grissom toweled himself and Trina off before gently putting her back on the floor, she barked again as if demanding for some kind of feast. Grissom couldn't help but smile.
Back in the seating area of the plane, Catherine picked up the little dog and stared at her and then shook her head in amazement. The flight attendant entered the room carrying a plate of cooked meat and a small bowl of water, she gently set it down, gave Trina a scratch behind her ears and disappeared again. Trina leapt off of Catherine's lap and started working her way steadily through the food. She must have been ravenous for she finished in a few minutes and was busy dunking her nose in the water.
All this was taken with a smile from Grissom, Catherine, and Marcell. However O'Brian just looked on with disgust. Every few minutes O'Brian would rub a particular spot on his lower left shin as if remembering some sort of wound that had been there a while back.
The second time in two days, Greg opened his tired eyes. He didn't feel so raw, so painful, just tired. He glanced to the right and Nick clasped his shoulder, "Hey man."
"Hey." Greg said back, tiredly.
Nick grinned at his friend who was well on his way to the road of recovery, "Grissom and Catherine are on their way to Canada right now."
"Good luck to them." Greg sat up suddenly and stretched, rolling his shoulders back until he heard a satisfying crack, "Oh, I so needed that. So how's...Warrick holding up? And what about you and Sara?"
Nick looked off to one side, "Warrick is getting himself pulled back together the best way he can. Ecklie's given him a month to recuperate, funny how his caring side comes out now."
Greg sighed, "Warrick's gonna be okay, but the memory of Tina's gonna haunt him forever."
"Yeah."
"So what about you and Sara, what are you guys doing?"
"Day shift is so backlogged from taking in all the case loads, that it'll probably take forever for them to untangle their line of thoughts. Sara and I have been called in to help them, so far we solved about a dozen cases from weeks ago."
"Way to go."
"Yeah...but there's still a lot more to go."
"Don't worry, some way you'll get them all solved." Greg said before reaching over for a glass of water.
Nick handed him one and saved Greg the trouble of lifting the heavy water jug to pour himself a glass, "So how are you feeling?"
"Me?" Greg said sipping the water, "Tired comes to mine."
"That's because you spend all your time sleeping."
"True, funny how that works aye? You get less then 5 hours of sleep you get hyper, you get more then 8 then you're tired."
"Maybe it's some weird adrenaline kind of thing." Nick said before settling down, "Did Grissom tell you?"
Curious bright eyes stared at Nick, "Bout what?"
"Andrea's real identity? And so on..."
"I don't think so, no why?"
"I guess I get the job of explaining everything, why do I always get that job?"
"Cause you're a CSI."
"Good point." Nick said and spent the next hour, filling Greg in.
"Wow." Greg said as he looked down, "I missed a lot."
"Don't worry you'll catch up."
"That's just sad. A killer raised by another killer, child services should've checked in their home after one of them was rushed to the hospital with a collapsed lung."
"They could've tried but remember, these people are masters of disguises. They probably would've moved before the rep came around." Nick said.
"Yeah and once they found out they moved, they shuffled it to the back of their minds and forgot all about it." Greg said staring at one of his wrists.
Nick followed Greg's line of sight and stared at the thin wispy angry red lines crisscrossing there and he suddenly understood, Nick gripped one of Greg's hands, "I'm sorry, man."
"What's passed has passed." Greg said staring intently at his scars.