14) The Wall Warden

It was as if a text bomb had suddenly hit the lab. CSI and lab tech's phones went off, alerting them to a short blurb waiting for them. Archie's watch, having acute hearing compared to its human counterpart, heard most of the phones. Before Archie could even reach for his cell phone, the clamshell device had already told the watch what the message was. Archie's watch knew its wearer was not going to like what he was about to read.

Meanwhile and almost simultaneously – as much as one can get if you're holding a heart, or tire tread, or just about to take a bite of your hero sandwich – they checked their waiting messages. On each of their phones Ecklie 'yelled' at them: ALL WALL CREW REPORT TO YOUR ROOM, NOW!

'He'd found it!' and 'He'd found it?' were the thoughts that crossed their mind (although not in the same order for each Wall Crew member. And Grissom never thought it as an exclamation at all.)

While David and Robbins could have migrated right to the room, they instead put down what they were working on, pulled off their surgical gowns, and waited in the hall for the others.

Above them the group hurried to the elevator. No one said anything when they saw the other. Just as Archie's watch knew why there were pressed into the small descending box, they didn't have to ask why the others were there.

"What do you think he's going to do, Grissom?" Greg asked in a hushed voice.

The watch mused he was asking quiet because of the confined space, not out of respect. Archie's watch though that particular human could be awfully boisterous and rambunctious at times. He had come dangerously close to causing permanent damage to Archie's watch during a few games of impromptu football games.

"Hard to tell," Grissom said. "Let me do the talking."

The watch agreed to that suggestion.

Catherine lifted her eyebrows at him. "How about you let me talk to him? You and Conrad get along so well."

The watch did not agree to that suggestion. Calm the female was, but sometimes she became quite loud when responding to other humans, and Archie's watch found loud female voices disturbed its synchronicity. Too bad it couldn't tell its wearer about that and be taken to a competent repairman. It liked the ones with the Swedish accents the best.

"If you insist."

"You were supposed to fight that."

"That would be foolish."

She frowned at him.

The doors opened and as one the group headed for records with David and Robbins falling in. They came into records and saw Ecklie waiting at the far end leaning against the wall. At his feet were two buckets. They approached him and his smile grew. To them it looked like one of pure malice, evil in the making. What was he going to do to their sanctuary?

"See, I wasn't sure just how many there were, but I suspected it was all of you," Ecklie said.

"How did you find out?" Archie demanded.

"I know it wasn't because any of us told you. We wouldn't tell you if our grandma died," Warrick snarled.

His smile faded. He stood up, pointing at the buckets. "You will go clean off every derogatory remark in there. I don't care if no one else knows about it or not, you'll clean it off."

"Conrad, we aren't going to do that," Catherine told him. "Some of the things in there are old. We need—"

"Room for more rules," Ecklie added.

Silence. The kind of silence that follows a poorly placed, and often distasteful joke. Or when a father just found out that his baby girl and her boyfriend have had sex. It was the deep, intense silence that followed two characters in a movie right before the bridge broke out from underneath them. If they had listened harder, they could have heard each other's eyes blink. Archie's watch did.

"What?" Grissom asked. He was fairly certain he'd caught the insinuation to what Ecklie had just said, but he needed clarification. He needed to know he hadn't mistaken what Ecklie was not telling them.

"You need more room for rules. There's no space left. Probably wouldn't hurt to write smaller. There's water and rags. Remove everything that's derogatory, starting with comments about me. Maybe think about removing some of the other stuff that isn't important." Ecklie started through the group, adding, "And move the filing cabinets to the right a few inches. It's really hard to get in there. And I don't want to see another requisition for chalk. This isn't a department run project; we don't pay for the chalk."

The group watched him leave. After he had left, they stared at the door closing behind him. Once it had closed, they stared at the general area he had departed in. If the bridge could have dropped, now probably would have been better than it had been earlier.

Lucky for them, Archie's watch wasn't as concerned about the events that transpired. In fact, it had watched them come and go without much care as to why its owner was shocked. It didn't really know what the big commotion was. It had watched the buckets with a wary eye. One was full of rags; the other was half full of water. It was a water resistant watch, not waterproof, so water always made it a little nervous. In light of that, it decided to alert its owner that it was now four in the morning with a happy chorus of beeping.

Archie responded to his watch's reminder. He looked first at the buckets, then up at Grissom.

"What do we do now, Grissom?" Archie asked.

Grissom would have laughed as each pair of eyes turned to him. Suddenly he felt like the leader of lemmings.

"I think we might have hurt Conrad's feelings," Gina said.

That turned the attention away from Grissom instantly.

"That man doesn't have feelings to hurt," Nick said.

"That's not true, Nick. There are very few humans that don't have emotional responses," Grissom corrected.

"Yeah, and Ecklie's one of them."

"Why do you think we hurt his feelings?" Catherine asked Gina.

"He looked kinda sad when Warrick said that remark about us not telling him if our grandma died."

Grissom had noticed that show of emotion, however brief it was.

"We need to do as he asks. We are running out of room for the rules," Grissom said.

"But you're the one that goes on about the posterity of the room and all that," Greg argued.

"Then we need to document it. Someone go get a camera. We'll get photos and then clean off what can be erased."

"This sucks!" Greg said, leaving to get the camera.

Grissom didn't agree. Of all the things in his life that had ever 'sucked,' this paled in comparison. Grissom picked up the bucket of water and rags.

"Nick, Warrick, move the filing cabinets a little."

"Are we really going to do this, Grissom? Really?" Nick asked.

"Yes. We really are. Go move the filing cabinets a little."

Warrick and Nick exchanged frowns, but obeyed him. They moved them only a few inches and when Grissom didn't order them moved more, they squeezed through the space into the room. The others followed them in, not sure what to expect when they got into the room.

To everyone's relief, the room didn't look any different and nothing had changed. Grissom sat the buckets on the table.

"Got the camera," Greg told him as he came into the room.

"Get the pictures and we'll get started."

They stood in a silent huddle while Greg started snapping off photos. He stopped suddenly.

"Uhm… The last time we were in here, we were at what number?"

"When Hodges, Henry and I were in here last, it was one-hundred and sixty four."

"Okay… So…" Greg turned. "Do you realize we're almost at two hundred?"

It made the others start counting up the rules.

"Bobby, you can't have that rule," Catherine said.

"What one?"

"One sixty-five. I mean, it's a God given right of CSI to ask this question."

163. While in ballistics, you may no longer wonder out loud why criminals aren't smart. If they were smart, we would be unemployed.

"Not in ballistics it's not!"

"And why not?" Archie asked.

"Cuz, like I wrote, if they were smart, we'd be unemployed. How much simpler you want it?"

"Since when do we call the shoot tank the magic bullet catcher?" Grissom asked.

164. Rubbing the 'magical bullet catcher' does not grant wishes.

With exception to David and Robbins, all fingers pointed at Warrick.

"Hey, I need all the luck I can get running ballistics."

"You need all the luck you can get running anything," Nick retorted.

"Okay, okay," Grissom stopped them. "Greg, finish taking the photographs."

"Grissom I thought you were like this really smart guy and stuff," Hodges said. "Has that changed?

"I am. Why do you ask?"

"You can't read Klingon?" Nick pointed at his rule.

165. No report may be written in Klingon, Ancient, Pig Latin, or Asgard.

"I can read many languages that have actually been spoken."

Archie's watch mocked the human. While its creator had not given it the ability to communicate in any language, it understood every language known to man, machine, or otherworldly. It was a very smart watch.

"Pig Latin is spoken." Greg argued.

To which Grissom argued back, "It's a false language."

All this arguing was rather boring Archie's watches deeply intellectual circuits. It longed for him to take it back to the lecture hall he had sat for several hours. True, its owner had slept through most of the lecture, but that was ideal for the watch. It had absorbed more information than a watch had a right to. Not that it could share this knowledge with owner, other human or even other device, but still.

"Somgrisay siyay otnay artsmay sayay ehay inksthay ehay siyay," Greg said.

Archie's watch, which was far more intelligent than any of the humans in the room, quickly translated the phrase across its circuits: Grissom is not as smart as he thinks he is.

Grissom retorted, "Somgrisay owsnoay exactay whenay eggray siyay inggoay otayay ebayay edfiray."

The watch would have mocked its confused wearer, had it had a voice, and told him the human had told the first one: Grissom knows exact when Greg is going to be fired.

Even if what she said was lost on the others, the tone Catherine used was very clear, "Ayplay icenay oybay!"

The watch was impressed, not just that the female unit had perfect Pig Latin enunciation, but that she spoke it without a hint of hesitation unlike the males had. It recognized her order as: Play nice boys!

Greg and Grissom both looked at her.

"I have a teenager-ay," Catherine explained.

"So now that we know you guys can talk about us behind our backs," Archie said.

"And it would take us a few days to figure out what was said," Henry added.

"We can talk about why Warrick would have needed to add one hundred sixty-eight in the first place." Archie smiled, because he knew the story. "Why would you add that, Warrick?"

166. Electronic equipment that is not working in the field won't get fixed by letting it take a dip in the pool.

"I toss one electroscope in a wading pond and you never let me live it down."

So that's what happened to his brother in electronics! The watch would have sought revenge… Except it had a small issue of lacking legs or arms.

"It was a very expensive electroscope in the deep end of a pool."

"It was a piece of junk that needed repaired."

"Which I told you I had. You just didn't know how to use it."

"You're the one giving things love taps!" Henry told Archie, hoping to stop the banter.

167. Electronic equipment that is not working in the lab should not get a 'love tap with a hammer.'

Yes. The watch had witnessed Archie's often abusive nature with his fellow electronic brothers. It would have been embarrassing if he ever found himself admitting this was his owner.

"Whose side are you on? CSI or lab rats?"

"The one with the largest player."

They laughed at the answer. The watch, however, understood how siding with large allies could be beneficial. It found the answer quite logical.

"And when you give that equipment love taps, Archie, don't blame it on me any more." Greg pointed at his addition before snapping off another photo.

168. And if you give said electronic equipment a 'love tap with a hammer,' blame it on someone who is working another shift, on vacation, or on leave.

"Are you telling me Greg really didn't break the electronic nose?" Catherine asked.

"Electronic polymer sensor proboscis," Grissom corrected her.

Thank you, the watch thought.

Archie looked away, blushing. She forced a smile.

"It's always the innocent looking, quiet ones."

"You mean like ol' Nick here?" Warrick motioned at the wall.

169. Shouting "Let's do the village! Let's do the whole fucking village!" while at a large crime scene is bad.

They laughed at Nick.

"Oh go ahead. Laugh it up!" Nick said, pretending to be mad. "At least I'm not graceful like Warrick here."

170. Asphalt does not taste like chicken.

Warrick didn't find their laughing response nearly as funny. The watch didn't either.

"Okay, so I learned not to try working on the tailgate when speed demon Nick says, 'I'll go slow!'."

"What does asphalt taste like?" David asked.

"Dirt!"

That made them laugh harder and Warrick cracked a small smile.

The watch didn't find it funny. His little mishap had cost the watch a dear friend when he'd landed and broke his watch's face. It never returned after that night.

"Greg, what shirt did you wear?" Robbins asked.

Greg turned, looking at the next rule.

171. I may no longer wear a questionable logo or graphic T-shirt "out of respect of the recently departed."

"It ah… It… Just… It was just a shirt."

"That said, as I recall," Grissom told them, "Where's the morgue? I need a cold one."

Greg's cheeks brightened, which made the others laugh, and made the redness spread.

"I have to have that shirt!" David said.

"It was inappropriate to wear to a crime scene."

"The guy died from alcohol poisoning. I was honoring his last wishes."

"Last wishes?" Gina asked.

"He died drinking and happy."

They booed him.

"Hey, at least I don't drive everyone insane with those stupid songs!" Greg motioned at the next rule written by Nick.

172. Two songs not to be sung while processing a bus: "The Wheels On the Bus Go Round and Round" and "Magic Bus."

"I thought we were going to have to kill Nick that day!" Warrick said.

"And more than once," Catherine added. "Because he was so hyper I don't think one death would have done the job!"

"I was having a good day! I didn't see anything wrong with the songs."

"Except you sang them over and over and over and over and over," Catherine told him. "For four hours straight! And if you ever, ever do it again, I'm firing you for being a moral killer."

"Moral— Now, see, Grissom, see what abuse I have to put up with out in the field."

"Sounds to me like you were serving the abuse."

Warrick and Catherine both laughed at Nick.

"Awww. I see how it is. I know when I'm being ganged up on." Nick turned to the wall. "HEY! Greg! Why did you add that?"

Greg looked at the rule he'd added:

173. The Sims® or The Sims 2® may not be used to recreate a crime scene.

"That was Grissom's idea," Greg answered.

"What? Grissom! We need that so we can create accurate scenes when our other software decides to crash. All night. Because of Archie's work."

"My work doesn't cause it to crash."

"Because it feels like it."

"It's a software application. It doesn't have feelings."

Archie's watch begged to differ with that answer.

"Because it's… Not as cool."

"Nor may you se the other one, either," Grissom told him.

174. SimCity 4® may not be used to recreate a crime scene.

"Grissom, we spent hours getting Las Vegas just right," Greg argued. "I mean… Me, Archie and Nick spent two days designing all the hotels, creating houses and warehouses, just so we could have the town exactly like Las Vegas."

"Since when have we ever had a crime scene involving an alien invasion?"

"We have that Star Trek convention every year."

"Which we've never had a crime at, and even if we did, they would not be real aliens."

"When they get drunk enough, they think they are," Greg argued. "That's why you need to learn how to speak Klingon, Grissom."

"I am not learning a fictitious language."

"Okay. Okay. You got us on that, I guess," Nick said, "But you have to admit, the terrain we got in Starcraft resembles the hills. Why did you ban that?"

Grissom looked at the next rule:

175. Halo®, Doom®, World of Warcraft®, Starcraft®, or any other game LVPD does not have a license for, will not be used to recreate a crime scene.

He looked at each of them. "I didn't write that one. That's not my handwriting."

"Come on, Grissom. Even I know you've been after these guys about using their games to recreate crime scenes," Robbins told him

"I didn't write the next rule. That's not my handwriting."

They stared at rule one hundred and seventy. Gina was the first to recognize it.

"Ecklie!" she gasped.

"What?" Nick asked, looking at the door.

"Ecklie wrote that!" she said, smiling.

They looked at each other, Gina, the rule, back at Gina, back at each other.

The watch had no opinion. It couldn't see the writing to form one.

"That means… He wrote these next seven," Greg said.

"Ecklie?" Nick asked. "Ecklie who never has a hair out of place and rides our ass wrote rules on our wall?"

"And… They're… Kinda funny," Archie added.

176. The voices in your head do not have higher superiority than your supervisor.

177. The 'Hodges Experience' needs to stay home.

178. You are not allowed to pretend you have a mustache with fingerprint dust.

179. You are not allowed to blame past lives on your current actions.

180. You are no longer allowed to conceal Vodka in any container in the lab for any reason, including, "I was using it as a control substance."

181. You may not mock command decisions in front of the press.

182. Today is not a good day to die.

The watch was even surprised as they read off the rules. He didn't like the Ecklie watch. It was all glitter, but little else. And it always snubbed Archie's watch when it passed in the hall.

"I have to admit… I never saw that one coming," Catherine said.

"Neither did I," Grissom admitted.

"Ecklie has a sense of humor… That just blows my mind," David said.

"I told you we hurt his feelings earlier," Gina said.

Grissom sighed, turning and picking up a rag. "Greg, are you finished?"

"Except the wall you guys are against, yeah."

"Okay, let's start with all the derogatory remarks and see what that leaves us."

They each grabbed rags and dampened them, then went to work on the walls to remove remarks. Greg finished snapping off the photos and sat the camera down, grabbing his own rag.

Archie's watch was content. In the silence like this, with so many other watches in the room, it could hear the steady ticking of their gears. And while the humans would never hear it, the watches listened to the steady stream of unspoken thought flowing steadily from their wear's mind.

#

Archie's watch listened to its wearer tip-tapping the keyboard keys as Archie filled out a report. It was a lulling sound, a sound that would have put the watch to sleep, had it slept at all. Suddenly, it was alert, hearing an intriguing conversation somewhere nearby.

"Thank you for leaving the room alone, Conrad. You would have had a riot if you'd ordered them to remove it."

"Just them, Gil?"

There was no response.

"I think I've figured out its secret," Ecklie told Grissom.

"Pardon?"

"With day and swing I have incidents and behavior problems that appear and can linger for months. Your team used to be that way too. Then, suddenly, that all changed. Now I understand why. I'm not going to remove it because it seems to be a very efficient coaching tool."

"I look at it more as a therapy tool."

There was a pause again.

"Why can't it be both?" Ecklie asked.

There was a long, long pause. The watch heard a tone it rarely heard in the Grissom human's voice when he spoke again: amazement.

"I suppose it could be, Conrad."

"Just keep it upbeat. Derogatory doesn't help in therapy or coaching."

"No. It doesn't. I'll mention that next time we meet."

"At The Wall?"

"How do you know that's the name? I have to know."

Ecklie chuckled. "If I was as dumb and deaf as you and your team think I am, I wouldn't be in my position for very long. But even I know how to listen to your tracks when you aren't looking, Gil. Don't you have some evidence to be running right now?"

The watch heard Grissom make a sound close to a snort, but not quite. "Thanks for the chat, Ecklie."

And the conversation ended just like that. The watch went back to listening to the tip-tapping of the keys, pondering the strange complexities of humans and their even stranger, complex relations with each another.