From Greg
Part Two
Spoilers: For Warrick; 19 Down, One to Go; and the closing scene from 'Ellie'.
Grissom looked down uncomfortably. He cleared his throat, leant on the desk, then mumbled, "Greg," but before he could say more, the young man took pity on him.
"It's ok, Gil. I'm only joking. I know you've made up your mind." He smiled a little. "You think you're gonna come back for a visit?"
Gil shook his head. "No," he said hoarsely. "I don't think so."
Greg's smile faded.
Grissom leant forward and placed his hands on the desk. It was his turn to say something. Greg had given him an opening; now it was up to him. He took a deep breath but, again, there was an interruption; laughs and boisterous voices coming from the hallway. The day-shift technicians were finally returning from their lengthy coffee-breaks, and the noise was as annoying as it always was, except that this time it didn't bother him. It wasn't his problem anymore, and the thought almost made him smile.
But Greg wasn't smiling when he broke the silence.
"You took us by surprise," he said. He kept his gaze on Gil as if to make sure he had his attention. "It's true we've been through a lot lately, but… We never thought it would come to this. There was never any sign... I mean, we really thought you loved this job."
"I do," Gil said quietly. "I care about it. That's why I'm leaving."
Greg shook his head.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means I've given this job all that I could give," Gil said softly. "If I stay, I -" He didn't know how to explain it. He didn't want to admit that lately, he had trouble mustering the energy to come to work. He kept thinking he could –and should- be doing something different. Once he was in his office, the self-doubt disappeared... Until the next time.
He sighed. "I just don't want to do a half-assed job, Greg."
"But you'd never do that."
Gil smiled a little.
"It's the right time for me to go, Greg. People stay too long, sometimes," he said conversationally. "Some wear out their welcome; or they burn out. And then when they finally leave, they realize there's nothing else for them to do."
Greg nodded slowly.
"I knew you had reasons," he said quietly. "And I understand. What I don't understand is why you never told me any of this." He paused. "I would have thought I deserved some consideration from you."
Grissom met his gaze.
"You did. You do," he amended. He sighed. "I should have told you privately. I wanted to, but kept putting it off -" He wasn't even planning to drop the news that night; it was Ecklie who forced his hand. He came into his office and said, 'either you tell them, or I will,' thus forcing Gil to make the announcement earlier than he planned.
"I should have handled things differently," he admitted. It wasn't really an apology, but Greg seemed mollified by it.
He even smiled again.
"You know, guys from the other shifts think it's weird that you announced your retirement like this. No fanfare, no big speeches. But we don't think it's that weird. It was shocking, but not weird. It's just the kind of thing you'd do." He paused. "Warrick for one wouldn't have been surprised."
Gil looked up sharply.
"He even kind of warned me," Greg said, a faraway look in his eyes. "Back when I was starting out as a CSI, he said to me, 'There'll be no cake in the break room, Greg. One day, Grissom will be gone, just like that.'" He looked at Gil, "He said I should learn to do my job well, 'cause you wouldn't always be there to cover our backs."
Grissom looked down. Warrick was still a painful subject. He could discuss Warrick's cases with relative ease, but talking about the friend they'd lost was just too difficult.
"He was sorry, Grissom. For Gedda; for everything. He felt he'd let you down."
"I know," Gil said softly. He'd tried to assuage Warrick's guilt, but never quite succeeded. Warrick could not forget what he did; could not forgive himself. He'd died trying to rectify what he'd done.
Greg broke the silence again, and this time it seemed he was making a conscious effort to change the subject for one less painful.
"You know, I've been racking my brains trying to remember the first time we met, you and me." He frowned. "But I can't. I can barely remember what you looked like."
"It's been ten years," Gil said reasonably.
"Brass was the boss," Greg said, "That, I remember. You were his senior supervisor -"
"- you were the youngest DNA analyst we'd ever had -" Gil added.
"Brass was kind of a jerk, wasn't he? He didn't want to hire me; he made that clear. But you vouched for me."
"Yeah, well," Gil shrugged again. "You had all those letters of recommendation -"
"Letters?" Greg said with mock indignation. "And here I thought it was my good looks that made you decide."
"No," Gil said good-humoredly. "I didn't notice those back then."
"No, you didn't." Greg smiled mischievously, "And then you noticed but didn't do anything about it."
"Guilty as charged." Gil smiled.
"Luckily for you, I'd noticed your good looks too. And I didn't believe in holding back. Unfortunately for me, you didn't fall into my arms as quickly as I hoped," he said dryly. "First, I had to wine you and dine you for, what, two whole weeks?"
"What wine?" Gil retorted, "You bought me breakfast, and a couple of burgers. How was I to know you were trying to seduce me?"
"Hey, I was on a budget," Greg said defensively, but he was smiling, and so was Gil. They loved to tease each other with memories of their courtship. "I should have just grabbed you and kissed you; that would have saved us a lot of time."
"Well, grab and kiss was exactly what you did," Gil smiled.
And after a kiss like that, there was no turning back.
"Three years," Greg said musingly. "So much has happened since then."
Gil nodded wearily. "You were put to the test, the past couple of years."
"We all were." He looked at Gil. "We had setbacks; we lost Warrick and Sara." He paused. "Listen, I know this is a painful subject, but... People are wondering if that's why you're leaving; you know, 'cause you miss them so much."
Gil shook his head.
"That's not the reason," he said softly. "I do miss them. I always will. But, hum, the truth is, I started planning my retirement about ten years ago."
Greg gaped.
"Ten years?"
Grissom smiled slightly. "Thirteen, actually. A couple of weeks after my fortieth birthday, I swore I wouldn't still be here when I turned fifty."
"What happened?"
"Nothing specific," Gil shrugged, but he could tell Greg needed to know. "It was a number of things, actually," he said reluctantly. "Like the trip to the pyramids that I had to cancel because there was no one to cover for me at the last minute… or the administrative requirements that make our jobs so damn difficult…Or the cases we lost in court because of technicalities…" He frowned at a sudden recollection. "Or maybe it was seeing a favorite rock group making a comeback on national TV."
"What, they were not good?"
"They were pathetic. They were past their prime, yet there they were, trying to keep up with younger musicians. It was a revelation. I knew right there and then that I'd get out before I grew too old to do my job well."
"Wow," Greg said simply.
"I almost left, five years ago," Gil admitted. "I got an offer from the UCLA Entomology Department. I was seriously considering it; I even started to clean my desk."
"So, what happened?"
Grissom only smiled.
"Come on," Greg said. "What made you change your mind?"
He looked at Greg in the eye. "You," he said at last. "You said you wanted to become a CSI."
TBC