A Random Day at the Vegas Crime Lab: Why They Never Show Slows Days On CSI

It was a slow day at the crime lab, which was a good thing, but extremely boring for the people who worked there. Greg was re-organizing his locker for the forth time that shift, and Warrick and Archie were still going on with the pointless conversation they had used to beat Sara and Nick. Earlier, the four had had a competition to see who could hold a conversation the longest; Sara and Nick were beginning to wonder whether or not the other two even knew the had won. Grissom and Catherine were finishing up on Grissom's murder case, leaving all the younger CSIs to die of boredom. They didn't know it yet, but this was a mistake.

All topics of conversation having already been exhausted, Nick and Sara sat silently in the break room, both clutching a, mug of Greg's famous Blue Hawaiian coffee, making a feeble jab at conversation from time to time.

Sara spoke up again. "I spy with my little eye something that is brown."

Nick gave her a look, but still guessed. "You hair."

"No."

"The coffee."

"No."

"Your sandwich." He nodded to the whole-grain sandwich on the coffee table beside them.

"No."

"My hair."

"No."

"The paper bag."

"No."

"That broom in the corner."

"No." It was obvious Sara was having fun.

"My eyes."

"No."

"Your eyes."

"No."

"Your shoes."

"No."

Greg was walking by. "Greg's shirt."

"No."

"His hair?"

"No."

"I know, it's Warrick!"

Sara raised an eyebrow at him. "I can't see Warrick."

"So?"

"The game's called 'I Spy', Nick. I don't see Warrick, so I can't pick him."

Nick glared. "Your coffee mug."

"Give up, Nick."

"The floor."

"The floor's black."

He smirked. "There's dirt on the floor and the dirt's brown."

"Then why don't you just say 'the dirt on the floor'?"

"Fine. 'The dirt on the floor'."

"No."

"Your shoelaces."

"No."

"That stray piece of string on Nick's shirt." Apparently, Greg had finished re-organizing his locker again. He poured himself some coffee and sat across from the other two.

"Yes," Sara told him with a rather impish grin growing on her face.

The grin was matched by Greg's own. "By the way, who put the rubber snake in my locker?"

"It took you that long to find it?" The Texan asked after a seconds silence during which he pulled off the above mentioned peice of string. "Me 'n Warrick set that thing up to jump out of your locker for your last birthday."

"So that's why Mr Snakey had a sting tied around his neck."

Sara's eyebrows shot up with a snort a laughter. "Mr Snakey?"

"What can I say; I'm bored," the former DNA tech said with a shrug.

"Obviously…" The words had barely left Sara's mouth before Greg spoke again.

"I have an idea!"

…

When a triumphant Catherine and Grissom returned to the crime lab, the lab's halls were deserted. Deserted, but loud. Marilyn Manson was being played over the building's intercoms so louder that the two CSIs wondered why they didn't dear the noise from outside.

It didn't take them very long to find everyone; they were all in the same room. Grissom's office was full of beer, coffee, people and pizza; balloons and streamers decorated walls, doors, his desk and various pickled animals; plastic bugs were placed randomly about the room.

"Hey, Cath! Grissom!" Sara called out, a can of beer in one hand and a grin on her face. Was she a bit drunk? "Come join the party!"

She waved them both inside and shoved a paper party crown on Grissom's head.

Unable to keep a mildly worried and confused look off his face, his gaze followed the brunette as she walked away and laughed a little too loudly at a joke Nick had just finished telling. Taking off the paper crown, he found Greg sitting in his chair with his feet propped up against his desk. The grin on the youngest CSI's was thankfully a sober one, though he, like Sara, had a can of beer in one hand.

Greg's grin faltered a bit when he saw the shift supervisor, but then it came back full force. He got up and immediately shook Grissom's hand.

"We're celebrating yet another successful case closed as a result of your investagative expertise," he said smartly. It was obvious tha he had been thinking about what to say if they got caught.

"Greg," he asked, voice calm, once the younger man had dropped his hand. "Who started this?"

"It was Nick." Greg's answer was so perfect that Grissom nearly believed him.

Unfortunately for him, the above-mentioned Texan heard this and shouted 'it was your idea!' to clarify any possible confusion about who had indeed started the party.

Grissom gave Greg a look.

"We were bored!" The younger man said loudly as an explanation. "You can't just leave us with absolutely nothing to do and expect the lab to be in one piece when you get back!"

The supervisor sighed, but didn't say anything, and grabbed a beer. After all, the arguments that would potentially arise from this would all be pointless and if you couldn't beat them, join them.

…

Two weeks after that night, the party was done - but by no means forgotten. It was something that was on everyone's mind during each slow night that persued the night that triggered the party, even if another party couldn't be started because of Ecklie's return from his business trip. The entire lab had to admit that it was a miracle that the assistant director hadn't heard of it yet.

And so, all the CSIs were seated in the break room, rotting of boredom and wishing that Ecklie hadn't returned. They were all aware that the lack of work was in all a good thing, but it didn't keep them from getting bored.

Everyone was watching Greg, who had decided that the break room would look funnier upside down and was sitting upside down in his chair as a result, when Grissom entered. The supervisor had a jar in one had that, upon inspection, had not yet another of his various pickled animals, but a plastic snake. He looked a Greg for a few moments and, obviously deciding not to comment about it, shook his head before opening his mouth.

He had yet to speak when Greg noticed the snake in the jar. "Mr Snakey!" He burst out, swinging his legs around so that he was sitting the right way. He stood up and waved a finger at the fake snake. "Where have you been?"

It wasn't until after he fished the toy out of the glass jar that he looked up and saw the look on Grissom's face. "It was Nick." He explained, perhaps a little too quickly, a finger pointed in a accusitory manner at the Texan.

Trust me, people do some stupid things when they're bored. You just don't want to know what type of stupid things that I've done...

Yeah, sorry for the wait. PLEASE FORGIVE ME AND MY INCOMPITENCE AS A RELIABLE WRITER! (hee hee, do I remind you of anyone, Laura?)

Anyway, don't eat chicken crackers,

Cheers,

xCxBxBx