This was originally a oneshot now extended. I have slightly changed Part 1, basically corrected the name of the FBI man to Jack Crawford rather than use the name of WP's character of Will Graham. At the time I could not recall the name (too lazy to look it up on the internet) but Reviews found this a distraction.

I have now added a second chapter.


I wrote this awhile ago inspired by a recent re-showing of 'Manhunter' on UK TV - it is hard now not to see William Peterson's character of Will Graham in that and not see him as a young Gil Grissom! It was clearly a formative movie for WP in creating CSI. So this FanFic is just a flight of fancy merging the two. I don't know if someone has done this before - I am sure it is a obvious connection!

And of course everyone who has seen 'Silence of the Lambs' will find the character of Hannibal the Cannibal Lecktor totally memorable! Especially played by Antony Hopkins.

So no apologies for stealing plot and character elements! This is FanFic after all!

Summary: The story deals with Grissom revisiting a case from his early career at the FBI! Before San Francisco! In it he has to confront his old advisory, Hannibal Lecktor who is on his death bed. Many aspects of Grissom's character are explained (and his bandy legs!) by analysis of this early encounter. There is also abit of GSR thrown in for good measure just because it is cannon!

Warning : it deals with a sicko so be warned. Mind you if you are that delicate then what are you doing watching CSI? Content not that bad, but you know, its Lecktor...

Disclaimer: Obviously stole all characters situations etc.

Disclaimer: I am not a writer so please excuse the spelling & gammer – I am dyslexic but I hope that does not spoil the story too much.


CSI Manhunter Part 1

Sara smiled as she saw the single red rose resting on her pillow. Grissom had flown out to Boston that morning to an Forensic Entomology Conference.

She loved his quite little touches of romance such as the rose. She smiled too because she knew his deeper meaning - that rose was a real flower, not plastic - he was saying that their love was the real thing, not a fake one at some showy wedding. He remembered of course, what she had said about her observations of the case a few months ago with the woman dragged behind the wedding car. She hoped he would ring tonight to tell her how his presentation at the conference went. Though he seemed more worried about the form of his racing roaches than his presentation before he left!


In a large lecture theatre in Boston, the chairman of the session on "Environmental factors effecting the establishment of time-lines from insect development", stood up and addressed the audience.

"So if there are no further questions for Dr Grissom, then I would like to bring this session to a close for lunch, and ask you to thank our speaker for a very stimulating paper." The audience gave a short, professional round of applause.

Grissom, dressed smartly in his dark suit and tie, gathered up his notes and removed his memory stick with his PowerPoint presentation on it, from the back of the projector laptop on the podium. The audience hurried out not wanting to miss out any further on the buffet lunch, as Grissom's talk had over run due to the many questions it had stimulated.

When Grissom was finished he looked up to see one figure remaining in the auditorium. A mixture of emotions ran through Grissom's mind as he recognized Jack Crawford the Deputy Director of the FBI.

It had been along time since they worked together. In fact it was Grissom's first job in his early twenties, immediately after finishing his PhD. He had been headhunted by Crawford during the time of his PhD studies in ULA to join his 'Serial Crimes Unit' at the FBI. The Unit dealt with serial killers that crossed jurisdiction boundaries. Grissom had left the FBI to joint San Francisco Police Department CSI lab after only 4 years with Crawford. Few people at LV CSI knew of his dalliance with the FBI, except Brass of course, who had recruited Grissom from San Francisco. However many knew of Grissom's contempt for their methods of bullying their way into local police Dept cases.

Grissom picked up his briefcase and walked down off the podium to face Crawford. He waited for Crawford to speak.

"A very interesting talk Gil. I see you still have not lost your edge. Tell me, how are things in Las Vegas?"

"Very well thank you"

"I see since you arrived there LV Crime Lab has made it up to No. 2 in the national ratings. That does not surprise me".

Ignoring his attempt at chit-chat and flattery, Grissom asks "What can I do for you, Jack?"

"Yes indeed. Haven't seen you in 20 years and suddenly interested in blow flies! I think not! I'll get right to the point. An old friend of yours is asking for you"

Grissom's frowns." What old friend?"


Grissom takes a deep breath as Crawford continues. "He is 89 now and in ill health. They say he has only a few weeks to live at most. And he wants to see you".

Grissom looks puzzled "Me? Why?"

"Well I suppose you were the investigator that finally 'beat him'. I think you are the only one he respects" he says riley.

"But he nearly crippled me for life..." replies Grissom remembering back the months of rehabilitation needed to learn how to walk again that left him with permanent "bow legged" stance.

It was during that time that Grissom re-evaluated many aspects of his life, including his role in the FBI.

Crawford obviously was thinking back to the same time. "I know you blamed me for pushing you to a place you didn't want to go. But now you are in charge of investigations yourself I'd hoped you'd understand my motives better..."

"The ends justifies the means?... You used me like a disposable commodity, Jack." Grissom reminds him " You let me get so far into the mind of a psychopathic killer it could have driven me over the edge."

"Yes but you have to admit it made you into one of the formidable authorities on serial killers? I know from your career since that you have put away several who wound have gone on to kill more, like Milander and the Blue Paint killer."

"Your point being?" Grissom demanded, unconvinced.

"It made you who you are"

"No. It nearly destroyed me". Grissom corrects.

"The Tooth Fairy case?" Crawford nods in understanding.


Unparsed Crawford emphasizes "You did the right thing. If you hadn't fired I'd not be here."

Grissom raises a sarcastic eyebrow.

Crawford humphs then continues "I know you didn't want to take a life"

"It wasn't just that" interjected Grissom "I did not like what I'd become, or what I felt I was too close to becoming". Grissom remembers the feeling of almost euphoria at stopping the serial killer nicknamed 'The Tooth Fairy', in his tracks by emptying a pistol magazine into him. He will never forget seeing the bullets searing into his body as he was about to club Crawford to death. It was the reason Grissom did not want to ever be put in the position where he might have to do that again. And why he had chosen the more purely scientific role of a police CSI which did not necessarily require him to carry a gun, rather than FBI investigator - who was more gun-carrying-detective/ forensic scientist.

"Look Gil, we have had this discussion before when you decided to leave". He pauses "None of this matters now. You made your choice, and I made mine. But maybe we can find little Ellie Smith's body if you talk to Lecktor? Then at least we can give her parents some closure, even after all this time".

Grissom looks away as he recalls the case. They had always suspected that there was one last victim of Lecktor's to be accounted for. But Lecktor took delight in their futile efforts to gather information from psychopathic doctor.

Finally Grissom comes to a decision. "OK Crawford. Maybe it is time to put some ghosts to rest..."


"But what favor Griss? Why can't you tell me over the phone?" Sara sounded exasperated.

Grissom signed "I know, love, it's... it's...just so much to go through over the phone. I want to explain it to you in full, face-to-face".

"You know I'll understand whatever, Griss. I love you." Sara resigned herself to having to wait awhile longer for Grissom's return. But she could not help but feel frustrated by his lack of full disclosure. But she knew this was different from the reticent Grissom before they were together. Now she knew how open and inclusive he really was to those close to him. So she will wait.

Grissom continues "I'll ring Ecklie and Catherine and just say I need some vacation time. Lord knows I have enough saved up."

"This isn't going to be dangerous is it?" Sara asks.

"No. I cannot see how. I'm just going to see someone from an old case, that's all. Crawford hopes I'll be able to get some information out of them that he couldn't".

"Ok my love. Well, so I'll see you in another week then?"

"At most. Yes, I'll ring again. Goodnight. I love you."

"Goodnight. Love you too" She hangs up.


It had been more than 2 decades since Grissom had been in the FBI Top Security Hospital Prison for the Criminally Insane in Baltimore. Grissom had often thought it ironic that with the death penilty being legal in many states, but many of the worst criminals were considered too insane to execute.

Hannibal Lecktor had been one of the worse cases imaginable. He had not only killed, without the slightest element of conscious, but quite indiscriminately. Hannibal's bizarre predilection for human flesh had lead to the inevitable nickname of 'Hannibal the Cannibal'. He had lured his victims using his considerable intellect and psychological medical training. His remarkable ability to get inside a person head and f with it would lead anyone to insanity. Grissom was not looking forward to any conversation with the man, no matter how ill he maybe.

Grissom thought how old Lecktor appeared as he looked at the figure secured to the hospital bed all in white. His eyes were shut and without that incredible unblinking stare he looked like any fragile old man. But Grissom knew different. This was one of the most evil men in criminal history.

Lecktor's eyes opened. He always had an incredible ability to detect people's presence, Grissom thought.

"Ahh. So you came" Lecktor stated in a self satisfactory manner.

Grissom made no reply. None seemed necessary. He knew Lecktor would be assessing Grissom's appearance, gathering fuel to dig into the very core of him with his laser sharp intellect.

But Grissom was aware that he was not the Grissom Lecktor had known 20 years ago. Grissom knew who he was, and was happy with it. More so now than at any other point in his life, he realised.

"I see I left my mark on you..." Lecktor starts, referring to Grissom's distorted legs " at least you are learned to walk. Pity. I should have made a better job of it, it was my intent. What is the good in having a medical degree if one 'misses the mark' so badly?"

"What do you want?" Replies Grissom keen to make this exchange as short as possible.

"Ahhhh... want out of my company so soon? I've followed your career with interest... I guess I cannot call you 'young Gilbert' anymore?...Still have the beard I the women like the way it tickles?"

"Spare me, Lecktor, I'm not playing. I don't have to stay a moment longer in this room than I want to. Crawford said you wanted to say something about Ellie Smith? Care to share?" Grissom looks as unemotional as he can manage.

"Indulge me, I am dying after all. Do I not deserve a last request?"

"No" Grissom looked steadily at Lecktor's unblinking gaze. Matching him with defiance the young Grissom could only struggle to maintain.

Lecktor gives in a margin.

"Ellie, she was a pretty flower... she came apart like twigs. There is no fun in that. Such tiny organs, too tender to roast, just a light flombay..."

Grissom sighs "I don't have to listen to this anymore. And I have seen allot more since. If you want to tell us where she is then do. Otherwise this conversation is over".

"'Mary, Mary, quite contrary. How does you're garden grow?'" Lecktor chimes.

"Are you saying she is in a garden somewhere?" inquires Grissom.

"The only place for a flower... or in a pot on your window that is... but despite what anyone thinks the smell of decomposition coming from one's window sill is not my perfume of choice..."

"So where is 'this garden'?" Asks Grissom, ignoring Lecktor's flights of fancy.

"In Mary's garden. Where else?" retorts Lecktor.

Grissom thinks about what 'Mary' was connected to the case.

"You'll have to be more specific than that" states Grissom.

"Stumped my dear old friend? You disappointment me. And you the brightest they had to offer".

"It is simplicity itself to make up the puzzle when you already know the answer" replies Grissom.

"True, true" confirms Lecktor. "Where should a girl of 12 be?" Grissom does not respond. So Lecktor continues "Why at school of course... learning her lessons... or perhaps somewhere where the headmaster could keep a careful eye on her..."

Grissom remembered then, the girl's father was the headmaster of a girl's school 'Our Lady's Catholic' school. Mary of course. It would be typical of Lecktor too to bury the remains so close to the grieving parents. Sick jokes were part of his signiture. Not knowing that her last resting place was so near to them day by day would amuse Lecktor.

"The flowerbed outside the father's school office?" Grissom asks. Grissom remebered it well. The look from Lecktor confirms his question. Despite everything Lecktor did look weary. His eyes closed briefly. Grissom turns to leave.

"Why don't you ask why I requested you?"

"Because it doesn't really matter." Replied Grissom.

"Well I'll tell you anyway. You came close didn't you? " Lecktor taunts him "To seeing why?" Grissom frowns. Lecktor explains further "You were the only one with the intellect to connect... it scared you didn't it?"

Then Grissom smiled slightly and decided to answer him "It did then. But not now. I was young and idealistic. I know the difference very clearly now between being able to understand the criminal mind and having a criminal mind. Insane or otherwise."

Lecktor stared into his eyes, trying to test the depth of his resolve, Grissom realised what he was doing. But Lecktor couldn't touch him anymore. Maybe that was it? Grissom suddenly saw. Maybe that was why Lecktor wanted to see him? He had seen the inner strength in Grissom that had made him impervious to Lecktor's psychological destruction? He'd been more aware of Grissom's mental strength than he had been himself.

Lecktor now had wanted to see how Grissom had faired? Had he grown to see that strength or had he let the self doubt of youth erode it? Had Lecktor won?

Grissom knew Lecktor had his answer. No. Grissom was a mirror to Lecktor! He was what someone of Lecktor's abilities could have been, if he hadn't been insane.

Twenty years ago Grissom had been haunted by the idea that he, Grissom, could have been a Lecktor, but for a twist of fate. But Lecktor had seen the opposite parallel.

And for Grissom that demon who was called 'Lecktor' was now gone.

Grissom knew Lecktor would have seen much of this interplay on Grissom face. He had an incredible ability to read people. It was what had made him so frightening.

"Ahh yes you finally get it..." Lecktor said quietly, his eyes closed. "Goodbye Gilbert"


Back in Las Vegas. Grissom is sitting up in bed with Sara leaning back on his chest, wrapped in his arms. She had listened without an interruption to his long narrative and self analysis. An aspect of him that, really only she knew he was capable of.

"And now he's gone?" She finally says.

"Yes he only lasted another few days" Grissom mused.

"Your great nemesis..." Sara summarized.

"Possibly." He pauses "I would hope to be somewhere on the opposite end of the spectrum to an insane psychopath alright!" he said with a mocking exclamation as he gives her a nuzzle into her neck. Sara couldn't help but giggle at his trickly beard.

"He was right about one thing for sure..." she says "I like the way your beard tickles!" they both laugh.