Back again, I wrote most of this today and am fairly proud of it. I would just like to say I'm against all forms of bullying and Hodges is one of my favourite characters, it's just this is the only person I could write this for. Hope you enjoy it IHC.

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The infamous yellow post-it note has made its second debut, this time on the window of the trace lab. Many people couldn't help but laugh when they saw the note and figured the messenger was blatantly calling Hodges a woman, he was known for asking "what?" when someone said something he didn't like.

When a woman says "what or pardon?" it's not because she didn't hear you, it's because she's giving you a chance to change what you said.

Needless to say, this didn't improve Hodges normal dismal mood, people smirking or giggling at him all day at work normally meant something bad, as he discovered in high school. Oh, the joys of being bullied, they leave you paranoid for the rest of your life. He could put up with it for a while, Hodges just ignored it, however when it was getting to the three hour mark it began to really grate on his nerves. As if he didn't have to put up with enough already: his genius is underappreciated, he is constantly mocked, his demeanour has been the subject of many talks with Grissom and if all that wasn't enough, they had started smiling secretly at him or giggling when they walked passed his lab. Staying in one place was always a good idea if you're avoiding co-workers but unfortunately for Hodges the results just coughed up by the printer were demanded by Nick, which meant he was of to see the Texan, the manly Texan of Labland. God help him.

Mandy found it funny at first when the yellow post it note was found, admittedly it wasn't mean amusement, just a 'fun between friends' kinda thing, but some people were taking it too far. Steadily throughout the three hours Hodges had hid himself away in his work, responses had been written and posted:

Careful of her time of the month

Not matter how much you ask "what?" the results and questions will stay the same

Oops I always though he was acting like a parrot

We need more men in the lab!

We're not paid enough to deal with shit from our co-workers

And they went on.

The last one had her fuming and as the dark haired woman got up to rip the horrible and degrading comments down from her friend's lab wall, Hodges walked out. The effect on the lab was instantaneous. People gossiping quietened and hid, CSI's who had turned into the corridor fled the other way and Hodges, the object for their ridicule, froze.

It was only when the perpetrators were holding their breathing and hoping he didn't recognise their handwriting, did they begin to feel guilty and skittish. That feeling built up as they watched their admittedly very good trace technician slump at each and every mean and spiteful comment written on his lab, almost as if defiling not only him but his only comfort; his work space. They only felt remorse when they watched the object of their scorn as he shook his head wearily and walked on, no bounce or pompous in his step and his shoulders giving the air of a defeated man.

Mandy watched her normally quirky friend walk down the corridor as if he was walking on Death Row. Incensed, the woman turned and glared at the remaining people watching guiltily as they began to realise their error. The fingerprint analyst stormed over to the glass wall of Hodges lab and began to tear the degrading and damn right rude comments from the smooth wall they had made their home.

The rest of the shift was quiet. Results were given without fuss, bad guys were put in prison and a subdued Hodges continued his work at a stead rate. It wasn't until the end of shift he noticed yet another of the small yellow notes stuck to the door of his lab, the very same colour that had started the slagging campaign against him.

Written on it was:

Sorry, I only meant it for some fun, I didn't realise would go so far. I appreciate all you do, if it wasn't for you there would be a lot more scumbags in the world.

Hodges couldn't decide what to do with it, bin the obviously false and forced apology or rip it up and put it in the bin. He just sighed and slipped it into his pocket to be dealt with later as either way it couldn't stay on the door. Gradually more and more apologetic post it notes appeared as he walked to the locker room to grab his stuff and just go home. The apologies were written all kinds of notes each one expressing their guilt and their request for forgiveness. Strangely, each one had a case that Hodges helped with his skills in trace, a kidnapping case on the green duck note, a rape on a red pair of lips, it went on. By the time he'd reached the locker room he had a hefty pile of apologetic post it notes and a lifetime supply of compliments.

Of all the things Hodges has ever expected to be in or near his locker, Greg Sanders wasn't one of them, in his hands a pale yellow post it with writing scribbled across it.

Greg shifted. "Hi, I er got this um I wrote it I mean, for you." Hodges started at the seemingly innocent and inconspicuous piece of paper. He didn't move to take it from the shifting man's hands. Greg, seeing the older man's reluctance to take the note or even come near him, flinched. Clearing his throat he began to read talk, ignoring the not entirely as he crumpled it in the palm of his hand, "Hodges, first of all I really am sorry, what the others did wasn't funny or even witty, in fact it borders on harassment and bullying. I only meant it to lighten the mood, not to be in any way demeaning. I made Grissom, er I asked Grissom to talk to everyone and told them that if they didn't apologise and mean it, there would be consequences. I'm not quite such what they are but I did heard rumours about docked pay. Every single post it note is real and they are sorry. I'm sorry they even thought to do such a thing."

Hodges had stood and stared at the fumbling CSI as he talked, grunting when the younger man had finished rambling, "Your in the way of my locker." The slighter man stepped aside and watched as the other riffled through and began pulling items from within.

"Your not leaving are you? Because of what I did?" The trace technician continued to pull clothes and items from his locker and put them in his bag, finally closing the door when it was empty and stalked towards the door. "David…Hodges, please I'm sorry, I didn't mean for this to happen."

The man in the doorway turned his piercing blue/grey eyes towards the man still standing in the centre of the room, "My clothes need to be washed if I'm going to come to work. I highly doubt people would appreciate me walking in here in my pyjamas. That and I hate smelling awful." Turning once again Hodges left Greg standing in the room, a smile creeping up his face.