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Doc Robbins
Doctor Al Robbins hummed to himself as he began the "Y" incision on his current "patient".
He worked methodically, noting any oddity as he went. It was a routine autopsy and he fully expected to determine the cause of death was a gunshot wound to the head, which is what he'd told Grissom when he'd insisted he put a rush on the autopsy.
Doc wasn't sure what bug had gotten up his butt lately, but it was wearing thin. He had been grouchy and, and even more odd, he was snippy.
A few minutes later, Doc finished up and sewed the last stitch into the man's chest. He called David, and together they moved the man into one of the freezer drawers. He asked David to clean up and, after washing up, he took himself off to a late lunch.
His original plan had been to go home for a leisurely lunch with his wife, but Grissom seemed to want everyone to be as miserable as he was. Something was terribly wrong with Grissom's life.
An hour later he was making his way back down to the morgue when Grissom came striding towards him.
Al could fairly, see the dark cloud hanging over his head, and a scowl plastered on his face.
"Where have you been?" he asked curtly.
Doc answered with a brief, "Lunch."
If anything Grissom's scowl got darker. "Did you finish the autopsy on that gunshot victim?"
Doc nodded. "Sure did."
"And…" Grissom frowned, exasperated.
"And he died of a gunshot wound to the head, which, by the way, is what I told you before."
Grissom sighed. "Look, I had to make sure."
Doc gave his own sigh. "Look, Grissom, is there anything bothering you? You know I'm always here to listen."
Grissom's face closed up and he shook his head. "Everything is fine, Al. I'll let you get back to work," he said, heading down the hall.
Al shook his head, something was definitely wrong.
TBC